Unleashed
by poxelda
Summary: Phoenix has fallen, his friends are missing, Mac is alone. What is he willing to do to get them back? Warnings for violence, language and scenes of torture.
1. Chapter 1

*****Ok, I lied. Ghost of a Chance is now simmering on the back burner. My muse agreed with you! LOL. This story picks up where Nightmares leaves off. Thank you for your input, favorites, and followings. The intrigue continues. If you have not read my other stories, a lot of this will make no sense, especially if you have not read 13 and Nightmares. Thanks, everybody, enjoy.****  
**

 **PROLOGUE**

 **Rook Island, NOW**

It was worse than Cairo, not even a contest; Mac thought as he held his hand over his bleeding side and closed his eyes. He froze as he heard gravel trickle down from over the cave entrance. Damn. Mac leaned back into the shadows and forced his breathing to be quiet. His ears strained to hear over the crashing surf. It was getting dark out if he could hold on until then...and escape the oncoming high tide. Mac wiped sweat out of his eyes. He heard boots hit the entrance of the cave entrance. Shit. Mac bent gasping in pain and picked up the closest rock. Mac closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn't need it.

"Traitor." The painfully familiar voice hissed at the door. Mac blinked away tears as he braced himself. He knew the man wouldn't hesitate and he knew from first hand how deadly he could be. "MacGyver you're dead, hear me! Their deaths are on your head, and you're going to pay for every single one." Mac swallowed as the familiar step came closer if he would just walk past Mac enough for him to slip away...Mac heard a slide then was jerked out of his hiding hold. Mac cried out as fists like boulders walloped his head and torso. He jackknifed as a knee crashed into his wound. Hands let him go. Mac fell huffing for breath as he rolled over. The man looked down at him and cocked his head. Mac scrambled backward desperately looking for a way out. The man gave him a flat deadly glare and smiled a grim promise of a prolonged, painful death. The past two years have been the worst of Mac's life, but he thought as the man dragged him to standing, being hunted by your best friend and partner definitely blew everything else on the list to insignificance.

"Jack…" Mac gasped. Jack smiled and pulled Mac's face close.

"Traitor." Jack hissed as he slammed his forehead into Mac's face. Mac felt darkness seep across his vision…

 **Iowa, Two Weeks Ago**

Mac pushed himself to his limits as he ran. He wouldn't be able to describe the maelstrom of emotions whirling around him. He'd almost killed a man, bad enough, but he enjoyed it. Mac paused putting his hands on either side of his sweaty head. He shook his head. It would be easy to blame it on continued effects of the Blue or pain of the past, but in his deepest heart, he knew that wasn't true. Mac walked past Meyer's farm. The couple waved at him from their garden. Mac waved back and started running again. Elmer and Fidget took a break to greet the pair then ran back to join Mac on his run. Mac ran another mile then stood with his hand on his knees breathing hard.

Jack had told him to go for a run frustrated with Mac's pacing. Only two of the invading soldiers and Dewayne Stratson remained alive. Unfortunately, they were also severely injured and remained unconscious. Jack had pulled the dead bodies and the living prisoners into the barn and was waiting for a chance to interrogate them. Both Mac and Jack were frantic with worry about their team and Phoenix after Matty's message 'Phoenix has fallen.' It was one phrase neither man had ever expected or wanted to hear. It was the equivalent of 'every man for himself.'

Mac reached the end of the road and started to walk back. He did feel better, the fear and worry folded back into their place. The two dogs ran up to him their tongues spraying drool everywhere as they hung out the side of the dog's mouth. Mac petted them and found himself talking baby talk to him. He stopped himself. It was undignified. Mac laughed and shook his head receiving a flurry of wet dog kisses. He felt lighter and more focused as he walked back. As they neared Meyer's farm, the dogs blocked his way and growled menacingly at the farm. Mac's gut fell. No one was in the garden and the hoe and rake the older couple had been using lay fallen on the ground.

"No," Mac whispered. He pushed past the dogs who seemed intent on keeping him from the property. Mac took two steps. He saw the flame before the wave hit him and threw him back over the dogs that crouched against the dirt road. Mac gasped as he hit hard and breath whooshed from him. He shook his head and ignored his discomfort. He wobbled to his knees. The house was engulfed in a mushroom of fire and black smoke. Natural gas explosion, Mac automatically cataloged.

He ducked as more matching explosions sounded behind the house. Mac sat back his shoulders slumped. The entire Meyer farm was gone. Mac's eyes widened, and he turned sprinting back to the farm where he and Jack were staying. Mac skidded to a halt breathing hard halfway down the front driveway. The dogs trailed him, exhausted. Mac was relieved to see no fire or smoke, but the place was too quiet. No insects buzzed, no birds chirping. Even the constant breeze seemed to hold its breath. Mac crept along the side of the house. He couldn't make out any new tire marks in the sand. He reached the edge of the house and scanned all the visible area. Nothing moved, and nothing seemed out of place. Mac glanced at the dogs. They looked uneasy but didn't growl. Mac ran to the barn and peered through the double doors. Mac's heart fell through the floor. All of the prisoners hung where they'd been restrained, but their throats had been slit. In the main section of the barn was visible signs of a brutal fight including several sprays of blood along walls and floor. Mac tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. He saw a glint of black metal under a barrel of fertilizer. Mac closed his eyes as he retrieved it. Jack's gun hadn't been fired.

Mac heard the familiar throb of a helicopter. He ran to the yard and held his hand over his eyes squinting. The helicopter was one of Phoenix's. Mac huffed and kicked the wooden wall of the barn. He batted at his damp eyelashes as he forced himself to think. He tucked the gun in his waist band and went into the house. The dogs followed him in and took deep drinks of water and plopped down on the kitchen floor tired. Mac froze as he saw the burner phone sitting in the middle of the dining room table. He knew for a fact Jack had it when Mac left. His hand shook as he turned on the screen. Mac read the words; his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

"You can plan on me, Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree." Mac almost threw the phone across the room, but stopped and sat down holding his head in his hands. He knew the words by heart; it had been his mother's favorite carol, _I'll be home for Christmas._ Mac took in a steadying breath. That told him where the trap would be. The second line is what made Mack's heart sink. "See you soon, love and kisses Murdoch." Murdoch with the power of Corydon behind him? Mac shuddered. Add onto that Mac was alone without any resources, contacts and could be tracked through any phone line or computer-it had to be the way they'd found Mac and Jack. Mac shook his head and shouldered the pressure. He felt his adrenaline pump and channeled it to thinking.

He had to go back to LA, that much was clear. Mac knew he'd be tracked probably by satellite, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Thinking about the complicated games Corydon and Murdoch liked to play, Mac didn't believe that they would do anything until he hit LA. That gave him some time to plan. He looked into the expressive eyes of the dogs.

"Feel like a road trip fellas?" Mac asked. The dog's ears raised and their tails wagged. Mac bit his lip as he took inventory of what the farm had. He looked out the window to the shack with the tank attached to it and smiled, plans already forming in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack opened his eyes, but everything remained black. Was he blind? Was he dead? Jack tried to move his arms and realized he couldn't. Thick iron manacles bound him to a stone wall. The wall was rough hewn, cold and damp. Jack sighed and winced. His head pounded with stabbing pain. Jack coughed realizing that the cell had a sickly sweet odor he couldn't identify, sort of like pot but fruitier. Jack shook his head. He was glad he couldn't see; it kept him from seeing the world spin madly. Jack leaned his head back against the stone and frowned.

He remembered the farm, fighting, then a solid hit to his skull. Jack felt bile worm its way into his mouth. It was hard to think, probably a concussion. His heart jackknifed.

"Mac? Mac?" His voice was loud and echoed off the stone. He concentrated on listening. He couldn't hear any breathing. Jack sat back. Mac had been on the run. He hadn't been taken. Jack felt fear trickle up his spine, or...Jack shook his head. No, no way was Mac dead. He'd know it if he was. Jack winced at a loud mechanical thud that was followed by an unearthly squeak. He blinked his eyes against a small flickering light. He heard someone enter. Jack blinked. After a long moment, his eyes adjusted and he could see his visitor.

"Oh hell," Jack muttered. Sarana Lupia smiled at him, her eyes and teeth bright against the darkness of the cell. Jack squinted taking in the cell. His eyes widened as he saw an ancient skeleton hanging from manacles at the back of the cell. Jack scowled. It looked like a dungeon. Not a fake TV dungeon, but a real medieval castle's dungeon. Jack was suddenly very happy for the perfumed air.

"Hello, Jack Dalton," Sarana said. Jack frowned. Her voice was relaxed and friendly. Jack blinked. In the dim with the flickering candle, her eyes seemed like the black holes of a skull. For a second, Jack wondered if she were Death himself come to claim his dirty soul. Jack shook his head and winced in pain and dizziness. "Not happy to see me, I imagine." The woman cocked her head and let out a long sigh. She wore a loose red dress and turban. Jack looked away. The African woman was still incredibly beautiful, but Jack knew better than to be taken in, some people thought cobras were nice too.

"I like the people I kill to stay dead," Jack said. He frowned at the slur in his words. How hard had they hit him?

"I understand. I need your help." A genuine guffaw escaped from Jack. He shook his head. He knew she was bat shit crazy, but help her? Sarana smiled and nodded. She crossed to a folding wooden chair in front of Jack.

"It is something that will help us both."

"Why do you think I'd ever help you?"

"Corydon." Jack sobered. A chill grabbed him. The walls seemed to wax and wane. Jack waited giving nothing away. "When you almost killed me, you freed me."

"Freed you?"

"I had been on a search for meaning, for a purpose...you gave that to me." Jack frowned. Sarana sounded sincere. She's crazy as an eight legged dog; he reminded himself. She sat back and laid the candle on the floor.

"You tortured my best friend." Jack hissed. The anger in his voice filled the cell. Sarana nodded sadly.

"Yes, I was insane then." Sarana stood up and began to pace. "I was manipulated, we both were manipulated."

"Like you're trying to manipulate me now." Jack sneered. Sarana nodded.

"I can understand why you think that, and nothing I say can change your mind, but please hear me with an open mind."

"I'm a captive audience," Jack growled. Sarana laughed. It was a friendly sound. Jack felt drawn to the woman. Was she for real? Jack shook his head and closed his eyes as the room spun.

"As you say. Let me ask you then, how has MacGyver been?" Jack's heart leaped. It meant she didn't have Mac.

"He's okay." Sarana nodded and sighed sadly.

"I am truly sorry, Jack, but he is not." Jack's heart his the floor. He couldn't stop himself from gasping in horror. Sarana stepped and crouched down. Her face was sad and kind. "He hasn't been for some time. I'm truly sorry, but he is dead." Jack's rage shook him.

"You bitch! IF YOU HURT HIM….!" Sarana stood up and stepped back out of kicking distance. Jack yanked on his manacles oblivious to the pain of cut flesh or blood running down his forearms.

"Calm yourself, Jack Dalton. I have done nothing to MacGyver." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "He was perfection, my greatest test; I would never destroy him." Jack sucked in air and narrowed his eyes. He hated to say it, but in her twisted way, she was telling the truth.

"You're wrong," Jack said firmly. Sarana nodded and wiped at her eyes.

"Let me ask you this, has he been the same since he was taken?" Jack's eyes widened, and he scoffed.

"Yes, messed up but he's still Mac." Sarana nodded and sniffed.

"Then you have been fooled too. I'm sorry, Jack." Jack frowned. Sorry? "I'm sorry, MacGyver is actually dead. The Mac you have been caring for the past few months is a replacement." Jack laughed.

"Impossible. I'd know if Mac wasn't Mac."

"Would you? He's been weaker, more dependent on you-is that normal for MacGyver?"

"He's gone through hell, a hell which you helped create." Jack glared hatred at the woman. She nodded sadly and sighed.

"Yes, I was used." Again Sarana stood and paced. "Have you noticed that you never heard the name Corydon until Mac returned?" Jack frowned. Where was she going with this? Jack shook his head. Why was it so hard to think? "Jack, Mac is Corydon." Jack laughed again, but it wasn't as confident.

"That's...stupid," Jack mumbled.

"Is it?"

"Yes, absolutely ridiculous. I know Mac better than anyone. I'd know…"

"Hugh." Jack's voice strangled with surprise.

"What? I killed him."

"No, you left him for dead." Jack felt his heart pound. He remembered the broken man he'd left buried under mountains of stone in the caves in Sierre Leone. Impossible, he told himself. And yet Sarana who he had emptied an entire clip into, sat in front of him. Was it possible?

"No, I would have known." Jack said his voice came out in a higher pitch. Sarana nodded.

"He fooled everyone."

"No, Mac is alive!" Sarana sighed.

"I do not want to cause you more pain, but I know you need to see with your own eyes." She snapped her fingers. A cart was wheeled in, on it was an old reel to reel projector. She noticed him staring at it. "I managed to steal this from my old partner." Her voice sliced with bitterness at the word. "This is original footage and as you can see could not possibly be photoshopped." Jack swallowed and felt sweat bead down his palms, back, and forehead. Sarana reached over and the projector ticked alive, and Jack had no choice to watch the film dancing on the stone across from him.

Mac lay on a dirty couch, his head twisted at an impossible angle, blood dripped from a slit throat. His blue eyes stared blankly into the camera.

"NO!" Jack howled tugging against his bindings wildly. "No, it's not true!" Jack felt his shoulders shake and could barely see past a wave of tears. There was a long string of numbers.

"This I pieced together." The footage changed to a man sitting in a chair; his face wrapped up. The bars of a vent covered the image; the film was shot surreptitiously. Slowly a doctor stepped forward and unwrapped the patient's face. Jack's eyes widened. Mac sat there with swollen eyes and cheeks. The doctor handed him a mirror, and he looked into it, turning his head to see rows of stitches.

"Nice work." The face was Mac's the voice was Hugh's.

"No," Jack whispered. Then the footage returned to Mac's dead body, and the Hugh-Mac stood over the body and smiled. Jack saw Hugh's cold shark smile. Jack felt sick. "No." He repeated. The man turned and spoke to someone off camera.

"Now we destroy Phoenix," Hugh-Mac said. A man replied. Jack couldn't make out what he said. He gave Hugh-Mac something-it looked like a thin transparent piece of tape. He opened his mouth and tucked it under his tongue. "Is that better?" The voice was MacGyver's.


	3. Chapter 3

Mac jerked awake and shook himself blinking in surprise. The lines on the side of the road seemed to blur into multiple paths of hypnotizing shiny paint. He'd driven over a rumble strip. Mac shook his head and decided he would have to stop for the night. He glanced at his watch. He'd been driving for 16 hours and still had another 8 to go. Mac saw a sign for a camping ground chained shut. He pulled up to a wooden fence, got out of the car and picked the locked. He drove through then locked the gate behind him. The dirt lot ran along a river lined on both sides with rocks. Mac opened the door, and the two dogs ran out. Mac pulled his leather jacket closer. He was at the foot of the Rockies and this early in the morning it was cool and damp.

Mac sighed and sat outside leaning against the side of the car. The river could have been the Styx. It was a new moon, so no light reflected down. Mac closed his eyes and fell asleep. He woke up four hours later covered in dog. Fidget laid on his lap and leaned against his chest. Elmer sprawled across his legs. Mac smiled for a minute, calm and peace relaxed away from the tension and worry. Mac sighed, his brain quickly falling into the familiar guilty groove.

Where was Jack? What was Murdoc doing to him? Mac felt his eyes fill with tears making the stars above blur. They had been in Iowa because of him; Jack had been taken because of him. Mac angrily brushed aside a tear and gritted his teeth. The dogs picked up on his tension and climbed off of him. Mac swallowed his emotions and forced his brain to work. He stood up and stretched then crossed to the trunk. Mac rubbed his face and began to pull out the fertilizer and other materials he'd coopted from the farm. Mac lost himself in his preparations. Dawn was graying the sky when he finished. Eight large devices that could probably take down a skyscraper and five smaller bombs. Mac smiled a flat grim line. He was going to do whatever it took to bring Phoenix home, no matter who or what got in his way. He thought about Stratson. Mac didn't feel conflicted anymore. He was ready to kill without remorse. Mac hesitated thinking this was Murdoc's plan the whole time. Mac pushed the thought away. He didn't have time or energy to waste on doubts. If this were what Murdoc wanted, Mac would make sure the sociopath would live long enough to regret it.

Mac shut the trunk and whistled for the dogs who were drinking from the river. His smile warmed at the dogs. He'd have to see them safe first, and he knew just the place. Mac bent and closed his eyes as the dogs licked his face their tails whipping like propellers. Mac sighed. Maybe after this was all over, if he was alive and if he could talk the farmers into it, he could keep the dogs. Mac held the door and winced at the fur that had gathered on the upholstery and carpet he heard Jack's rules "no food, no drink, no dirty ass feet on the dashboard." The man never said anything about dogs; Mac reasoned as he pulled up to the gate and again unlocked it, drove out and relocked it. Mac rolled down the window. The crisp air woke him up even more. He pulled into traffic and mentally decided on the quickest route home.

Mac coughed at the cloud of dust the Shelby kicked up as he bounced along the narrow road. He might end up spending hours at Jack's fixing broken shocks and struts. He pulled up in front of the long building that looked like a log cabin.

"Stay here, guys," Mac said closing the windows enough so the two dogs could get enough air, but not jump out. He walked to the back of the building and smiled. He crossed to the first large cage. A sleek black panther ran up to him. Mac bent down and put a finger in the cage. George licked his finger but kept looking past Mac with expectation. Mac felt his eyes burn and his throat slam shut.

"He can't come right now, buddy, but he will soon. I promise." George rubbed up against the cage letting Mac scratch his side. Mac again felt amazement that such a deadly creature could be so gentle. Mac chuckled. Was there any better way to describe Jack?

"Angus MacGyver! What are you doing here?" The familiar Texan accented female voice shouted. Mac turned smiling. Katya Norsuv laid down the bucket of water she was carrying and reached out. Mac hugged her. She looked at him, her smile vanishing.

"What happened? Is Jack ok?" Mac looked away blinking away tears.

"Hey?" Katya said with gentle comfort. Mac stepped away and turned away. If he accepted kindness now, he knew he'd fall apart. Katya realized this, and her voice became gruff. "Where's Jack?" Mac forced his shoulders to straighten and cleared his throat.

"He's in trouble Katya. I have to go get him and the others…" Mac stopped and looked at the ground not sure what else to say.

"What can I do?" Katya asked all business. Mac turned and smiled.

"Do you like dogs?"

Mac smiled relieved as he turned into traffic on the final stretch to LA. Not only did it turn out Katya loved dogs but so did George. Mac shook his head remembering the image of all three running after each other as Katya laid out food. Mac's eyes burned. He wanted to tell Jack, take him to see it. Mac cleared his throat and blinked the tears away forcing himself to focus on the next part of his plan.

The house pounded with the volume and bass of the music. Mac winced. It could have been the same song; Mac had no way of knowing. He pounded on the door. Mac coughed as a hanging cloud of pot drifted out the door as the same tall red-headed guy opened it. Mac allowed the man's eyes a minute to process who he was. Recognition showed. Mac smiled.

"I need to see Jared." He said as he pushed past the stoner. The guy held up a hand then dropped it shaking his head. Mac glanced at the man who returned to watching Steve Wilkos and smoking a bong shaped like a mushroom. Mac hopped down the stairs. Jared sat behind the same wall of computers he had last time. He jumped up, his wild eyes darting, searching for an exit.

"Look, man, I haven't seen Riley...I…" Mac held out a placating hand.

"Jared, I need your help." Jared paused turning his head looking at Mac with disbelief.

"You aren't going to fry my equipment are you?" Mac took a steadying breath and reached into his pocket. Jack had brought a lot of money with them. The only true way to get off the grid was cash. Mac had split into thirds and held out a wad of hundred dollar bills. Jared's eyes widened, and he went to touch it like it was a mirage. Mac pulled it back and waited for the hacker's eyes to meet his.

"You get it if you help me." The scruffy hacker licked his lips and nodded.

"What do you need?" Mac explained that he needed some way to avoid surveillance by cameras and satellites and he wanted Phoenix hacked. Jared sat back and grinned. 

"I think I can do that." Jared clasped his hands then bent them backward cracking his knuckles. He began typing.

"Most ID bases run by matching the configuration of your features with their files, right?" Mac nodded. "Well, I'm going to set it, so your features don't register as human." Mac blinked.

"You can do that?" Jared looked up offended. Mac shrugged an apology.

"Then I will program a virus to spread this to satellites and every database and camera in the world."

"Wow," Mac said with a smile. Jared grinned and squirmed in his seat with the praise. He paused then hit the enter key with a flourish. He frowned.

"Now for the hard part." Mac looked at him. Jared frowned. "Now I have to hack Riley's defenses." Mac nodded. "You may want to take a seat."

"Would you have a secure laptop I can use?" Mac asked. Jared looked at him as if he'd just asked if water was wet. He handed over a laptop. Mac sat on a small folding chair in the corner almost hidden by stacks of computer parts. Mac was no genius with computers, but he did know how to build things-case in point Sparky. Mac had been upgrading the Android over the past few months. He and Riley had tried to put in an off site remote control and failed. What came out of the failure was the ability to access the robot's input remotely. Another upgrade, insisted on by Bozer, was to enhance Sparkys visual array. The robot could now see in the ultraviolet and infrared spectrums. Mac quickly typed. With a simple configuration change, he could work that into basic thermal imaging. In seconds an image of his living room came onto the computer screen.

Mac didn't know what he was expecting, but it's typical clean emptiness felt wrong. He brought up a menu and clicked. Immediately he could see human signatures outside his house. By how they moved, Mac knew they were a TAC team. Mac frowned. He clicked off the computer. Why would Murdoc work with a team? It was obviously a team from Corydon or the hijacked Phoenix. Mac began to wonder if Murdoc was involved at all.

"Ok, got it," Jared said. Mac crossed to look over his shoulder.

"Look for anything to do with Corydon." Jared typed then shook his head. Damn. "Try Murdoc." Mac leaned close. Jared pulled up an email asking for authorization to pay Murdoc and Sarana Lupia." Mac felt his stomach fall through the floor. Sarana and Murdoc together? "Anything about where Phoenix personnel are?" Mac assumed they couldn't contact him, either they were all taken or were in hiding. Hiding wasn't Matty's style.

"Looks like most staff was laid off except the department heads and these." Mac took in the list and scowled. His team and most of the TAC soldiers were on the list as well as Sally Weathers and Doc Carl.

"Does it say what happened to them?"

"No, they are listed as 'terminated.'" Mac swallowed and straightened running his hand over his face. He took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. "Is Jack Dalton on there?"

"No, neither are you." Mac nodded. That meant they didn't want anything linking the Phoenix takeover to Jack or Mac. Someone was determined to take care of them illegally and didn't want the trail to end at their door. If that was true, why was Murdoc and Sarana mentioned? Mac's heart sunk. Scape goats. Mac shook his head. Murdoc probably knew that, but Sarana? Mac was pretty sure the crazy bitch had Jack. Mac rubbed the bridge of his nose remembering the pain of thorns stabbed into his flesh, the hallucinations, and delusions. Jack had shot the woman multiple times; Mac had to figure revenge was high on her to-do list. Mac's imagination took a dark turn as he thought about the Blue used by Corydon. Did the psychopath mix it for them? They had made Mac do things, what could they make Jack do?

"Huh," Jared said. Mac looked down at him.

"What?"

"They hired a shrink the same time they hired this Sarana chick." Mac felt his heart flop.

"Do they say why?"

"Nah, they just say 'advisor' to a Valencia Pari...pharasee.."

"Pharee-grace?"

"Yeah, weird name." Jared clicked on a thumbnail portrait and leaned back. "Damn, man, she looks like a Xenomorph." Mac smiled.

"Anything else?"

"Just a lot of files."

"Can you put them on a flash?" Jared looked at Mac as if the blond had asked him if he knew how to walk. The hacker pulled a flash drive out of his desk and downloaded everything. Mac took the drive and handed the wad of money to Jared.

"Thanks," Mac muttered heading up the stairs.

"Anytime, man," Jared said; he unrolled the bills and counted them. Mac sat in Jack's car and frowned. He had to hide the information somewhere Corydon couldn't reach it. He thought of Penny Parker briefly, but the last time she'd helped him she'd gotten shot and a broken nose. Mac had an idea and huffed. It wasn't great, but it was all he could think of, and it was on the way home.

Mac parked the Shelby deep in the warren of the trails in the hills above his home. He broke into a jog until he was in his neighbor's back yard peeking out from an unruly hedge of Forsythia bushes. The TAC team surrounding his house were obviously not professionals. They moved like uncoordinated, agitated ants. Mac smiled. Those following him might be panicking now they didn't know where he was. They knew he would come here, but didn't know when or how. Mac could work with that. He got out his phone and ordered a pizza then crossed to the corner of his neighbor's yard closest to the fence that surrounded his pool.

The delivery guy made better time than he ever did when Mac frequently called. The second he pulled up into the parking lot all of the TAC team scurried around to the front of the house and trained their weapons on him. Mac scaled the fence and dashed to the garage. He closed the door and slowly crept up the stairs. He strained his ears; he could hear muffled voices from outside, but nothing inside. Mac crept into the living room and froze. On the coffee table were two toy-sized figures one of a small island and one of a black bird. Mac frowned. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew where he'd seen the figures before. Mac wondered how long Fred had been working for Corydon or was she working with Sarana? Mac shook his head. Mac heard a beep and realized there was a phone beside the figures.

Mac crept to the side of the window and glanced out. He didn't see any of the soldiers in view. He leaned over to get the phone. Suddenly there was an explosion of glass followed by a solid kick to his side. A heartbeat later came the familiar bark of a long range rifle. Sniper. Mac snatched the phone up and fell to all fours the table splintering in his face. He glanced at the message, it was a haiku "a raven, hops on one foot, crack of thunder."

"Not helpful!" Mac growled. He snapped the phone apart wincing as the pain of his wound flared into pulsating life. Mac heard panic in the TAC soldiers outside and frowned. They acted like they weren't expecting the sniper, was Murdoc making his play? Did Corydon have a traitor? Mac wiped sweat out of his eyes as he reconfigured the guts of the phone. Right now, it didn't matter; neither side was his friend. He poked the camera above the table and squinted, making the picture as large as he could. Mac's eyes widened. Rijad Dedic? Mac puffed in frustration. What was this bad-guy old home week? Mac ducked as another bullet plowed into the table, this one at a steep enough angle it punched through the solid maple. He had to get out of here fast. Mac bit his lip thinking, then he smiled. He put his hand over his side groaning as he ran for the stairs. In the garage, he could see the silhouettes of soldier's crouching outside. Mac grinned. He hit the door opener then fired up the monster.

The group of soldiers whirled around and raised their weapons. Only two got off wild shots as Mac gunned the engine and ran them down. He whooped as he opened the throttle pushing the motor to the max. Mac had never run it full out, but he estimated the souped up engine could go from 0 to 100 in twenty feet. The soldiers he blew by screamed and dove for cover. Mac didn't hear any gunshots, the wind whipping his hair behind him was too loud. He crouched low and sped up the hills.

He pulled into a parking lot far from the Shelby. He gasped as he crawled off the monster. He closed his eyes against dizziness then knelt and undid the fuel lines. In seconds, he had it rigged to the cell phone's battery. He set the alarm clock on the cell for five minutes. Mac dove into the woods surrounding the parking lot and headed for the Shelby. Mac went carefully making sure to leave no sign of his passing. He knew there would be some, it was impossible to keep a bullet hole from bleeding, but he did his best. He was deep in the woods when he heard the whoomph of an explosion. Mac sighed fatigue from blood loss catching up to him. He shook his head and forced himself forward.


	4. Chapter 4

Demons danced at the edge of the failing candle light. Jack coughed. The sickly sweet smell seemed to fill the air and ooze down every orifice strangling him and filling his head with scattered cotton- thick thoughts. Jack's head dangled loosely. Images of Mac's corpse raised it with a snap; then Jack would see the candle on its last inch of wax blur with his sobbing tears. Mac was dead. How could Jack live with that? Jack's arms had gone numb, and he felt heavy, weak and overheated. Then the whispers started.

"Why didn't you save us, Jack?" Riley's angry hiss hung in the air, echoing in the small stone room. "You were like a father to me, but you abandoned me, again. You brought me into Phoenix and killed me. How could you?"

"Riley...I…" Jack mumbled.

"You let me down, Jack. I knew better than to trust you. What a disappointment."

"Matty, no…"  
"And you killed Mac. He loved you like a brother, and you killed him."

"Boze…" Jack couldn't form the words fast enough. The voices swirled around him repeating over each other.

"Jacky, I wish you'd never been born." Jack felt his heart break.

"No, Dad! It isn't true!" Jack screamed, and his body shook with silent emotional screams. "It's not true." Jack closed his eyes, his chest heaving, his face wet with tears and snot. "It's not true; it can't be," Jack whispered. The voices grew quiet then slowly went silent. Jack sucked in the thick air. He heard a soft scrape. Jack raised his head. The candle was melted flat; only a liquid puddle remained burning. Foot steps slowly tapped toward him from the dark. Jack's body vibrated with tension. He pulled helplessly on the chains holding him.

Thin legs stepped to the edge of the light. Jack's breath caught.

"Hello, Jack."

"Mac, oh my God! I am so happy to see you! They told me you were dead; I knew it couldn't be true. C'mon let's get out of here."

"Why would I want to rescue you-again?" Mac's voice was a whip of ice that slashed through Jack's soul.

"Mac?" The man stepped forward and crouched completely into the light. It was MacGyver. Jack shook his head. "No, it's not you. This isn't real." Mac laughed, a cruel hollow sound.

"Oh, it's me. Your 'best friend.'" Mac made air quotes, his voice sharp with cutting sarcasm. "Poor Mac, little Mac, I have to take care of you...blah, blah, blah. God, I am so tired of you. Do you have any idea how stupid you are?"

"Mac, you don't believe that…" Jack laughed. This was a joke, a trick. Mac's smile was a bitter mockery of Jack's.

"How many times have I had to save you? One job, you had one job-keep me from danger, keep me safe right?" Mac leaned forward his blue eyes a mere couple inches from Jack's watery gaze. "Answer me this, how many times have I been hurt because of you? How many times have we been captured? Tortured? One job! And you failed." Jack looked down avoiding Mac's disgust. Mac grabbed Jack's chin and lifted it, his fingers sharp talons leaving bruises. "Why, Jack? Why didn't you keep me safe? I hate you." The sibilant hiss hurt more than any torture Jack had ever felt or imagined. Tears poured down his face. He shook his head. Mac smiled and stood up taking a deep breath. "Now I'm free." Jack took in a shaky breath watching as Mac slowly walked toward the darkness.

"You don't mean it! You're drugged." Mac paused his back straightening. He whirled his hands balled into fists.

"Do you think so?" Mac kicked Jack across the face. Jack grunted as blood flew out of his broken mouth. Back kicked Jack twice in the chest and three times in the stomach. The kid's knee came up and slammed Jack's head back against the stone. Blood dripped from Jack's nose as his head hung forward. Jack blinked. It's not Mac. It can't be. Mac knelt and studied Jack a long minute and shrugged. He stood up and slammed Jack in the face with his booted foot. Jack's world folded into blackness.

Mac looked down at the unconscious Jack and smiled. He crossed to the door waving a hand in front of him as he stepped out to the small torch lit alcove outside Jack's dungeon cell. Sarana smiled at him.

"How did it go?" Her accent was a girlish chime.

"It's almost disappointingly easy," Mac said stepping forward and sweeping Sarana into a passionate hold bending her back and kissing her deeply. Sarana grinned and rubbed the side of his face.

"You are magnificent." She gushed husky. Mac smiled and stepped back. He raised his hand and pulled off the mask. Murdoc opened his mouth and removed the vocal impersonator. He looked at it distastefully then put it in his pocket. Murdoc smiled and gallantly bent kissing Sarana's hand.

"As are you, my love. Shall we?" He waved to a small spiral staircase. Sarana laughed as she gracefully floated up the stairs without a sound. Murdoc smiled as he followed her. The way she moved...Murdoc licked his lips. She was a drug he couldn't get enough of; it was a shame he'd have to kill her eventually. Sarana grinned over her shoulder. Murdoc nodded seeing the same thoughts dance across her face. He sighed contentedly

The main hall of the castle still had the same stone filed interlocking diamond pattern smoothed into the floor laid centuries ago. The intricate colored windows cast confetti glows along the different shades of tan. The tapping of their heels echoed deeply along the high vaulted ceiling and ravens lined the thick wooden beams fluttered and glared at the interlopers to their realm.

The framed doors stood open letting in the coastal smell of flowers and ocean. The blue sea surrounding the ocean whispered like a heartbeat sighing out a cooling breath. Sarana took a deep breath.

"It is like my home, only cooler." Murdoc rolled his eyes behind her back but smiled gently at her as she turned.

"Is it?" She smiled and leaned her arms on his shoulders. Murdoc growled and pulled her close. She moved against him swaying to some beat only she heard. Murdoc gracefully mirrored her dance with his as he leaned forward inhaling the spicy scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and smiled a genuine smile. "How are our other guests?"

"Not so comfortable." Sarana laughed. Murdoc leaned back gazing into her dark eyes.

"You have no idea what a turn on that is." He purred. Her eyes twinkled as she pulled his head down for a long kiss. The sparks grew between them, Murdoc rammed his mouth against hers, she bit his lip refusing to be dominated. They separated both panting. Murdoc was about to lead her up to their bed chamber when a cleared throat interrupted her. Murdoc gritted his teeth and turned mentally thinking of 27 different ways of efficiently killing the woman interrupting them. Sarana sighed with reluctance and turned to face the lady.

"So what do you think?"

"I think we just need to leave him in the dark and let his imagination work for awhile." Fred smiled as she walked forward. She met Murdoc's hostility with the same equanimity she did all her patients. "How long before MacGyver gets here?" She asked. Mudoc stepped away huffing. Talk about a mood killer. Sarana shot him a worried frown then answered the therapist.

"Unfortunately, MacGyver found a way to lose our surveillance." Fred's eyes widened, and she smirked.

"Really? I wish I had more time to work with him, his mind…"

"Is inconsequential." Murdoc barked. Fred raised an eyebrow. Murdoc's lip curled upwards in disgust. The woman had been his mandated therapist while he was jailed. She thought she knew all about Murdoc, figured out what made him tick. Murdoc smiled standing with his hands behind his back shoulders squared. Murdoc was looking forward to killing her, he didn't think they even needed her, but he'd chosen to let Sarana do her thing. Murdoc's eyes traveled Sarana's beautiful curves; She was worth the indulgence. Besides, Murdoc told himself, as long as he got to kill MacGyver he was happy. Having Jack kill the nuisance was just frosting on the cake.

"Are you sure he'll be able to find his way here?" Fred asked mirroring Murdoc's stance with defiance.

"Oh yes. As you say, MacGyver has a magnificent brain." Murdoc whispered as he passed Fred. He glanced at Sarana. Murdoc suddenly had a craving for cake.

"I'm off to supper." Sarana smiled and waved her fingers at him. She watched the sleek leonine grace he moved with and felt her heart pound with excitement. After he'd turned to the domestic corner of the castle, Sarana sighed and looked at Fred who had crossed her arms and glared at her. Fred must have been saying something.

"Yes, dear?" Sarana asked walking to the other woman and wrapping her arm around Fred's leading her out to the stone patio. Fred looked down at the horseshoe shaped cove below them and the winding stone path lined with overgrown wind-gnarled shad trees. Her eyes followed the sound of throaty growls. Fred swallowed at the enormous black birds that seemed to stare through her no matter where she went. She had no idea how the island had become so overgrown with the disgusting things, but she couldn't wait to get off this creepy island. Sarana followed her gaze and laughed.

"They still frighten you?" Sarana leaned against the carved stone leaning forward closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of the sea.

"Of course not, they're just...dirty." Sarana snorted and turned to face Fred. The older woman reminded Sarana of her mother. She liked Winifred and was very sad to know she would have to kill her. Sarana shared a friendly smile with Fred. Fred relaxed and brushed her hair that moved in the wind. Sarana had found a new herb similar to nightshade she needed to test the dosage for lethality. She'd taken subjects to the level of seizures, but they had all died when their cerebellum swelled and was crushed by their skulls. Sarana thought that mixing it with a numbing agent might control that reaction, prolonging the efficacy of effect. Sarana stood next to Fred and put her arm around the woman. Fred would be a perfect test subject. 

"So how long does the drug in the candle last?" Fred asked. She was not a fan of home mixed herbs, but she had seen Sarana do some amazing things with her concoctions.

"Now that it has burned down, it should hang in the air another hour or two with the cell shut tight."

"Even with the ventilation?"

"Of course, don't you trust me?" Fred laughed and waved a hand.

"You're right; it's just I've never done anything like this before."

"Don't think about the ethics, reflect on the number of zeros on the check."

Fred frowned.

"It's not that easy. I like Jack, you know. I spent a lot of time with him when he left Delta. Hugh had messed up his head, and Jack would probably have eaten a bullet if he hadn't met MacGyver."

"Pity," Sarana growled. Fred glanced at her and felt unease trickle up her spine. Whenever she talked about Jack, Sarana's eyes had a cold glint of real madness that worried Fred. It was gone as quickly as it'd come. Fred relaxed. She shouldn't be surprised Sarana and Jack had issues with each other, he had almost killed her after all. Fred was surprised to see how easily Sarana pretended to be on Jack's side, almost friendly towards the man. Oddly Fred's unease returned.

"So what's going on with Phoenix?" She asked. Sarana leaned into the sun like Simba being held by Rafiki.

"Valencia is slowly picking the meat off its bones. Corydon should have it

dissected very soon. Why? Worried the checks wouldn't clear?" Sarana's smile was mocking.

"No, of course not. I don't want any of this crap to fall on me."

"You are innocent in this after all." Sarana chortled. Fred scowled.

"How are you keeping Corydon from looking over our shoulder?"

"Murdoc has an old friend that owes him a favor. He used to work for the Bosnian mob." Sarana's expression flattened.

"Jack Dalton shot him and left him for dead as well." Sarana smiled and again coiled her arm around Fred's. "Shall we go see what wonderful delights my love has made for us? He makes divine pastries."


	5. Chapter 5

Mac sucked in a painful breath and leaned his head against Shelby's steering wheel and closed his eyes waiting for the dizziness and nausea to pass. He shook his head and pushed himself straight. He'd managed to escape the net around his house and wasn't sure where he was going until he pulled up in the small parking lot. Mac ran his hand over the thick dressing covering his side. As far as he could tell the bullet had come in at an angle bounced off a rib then exited. He'd stopped by CVS and paid a homeless guy to get him some bandaging supplies. The man had done a little jig when he was finally able to buy the top shelf 40. Mac sighed forcing his body to move. He pulled himself out the door and held onto the door frame. Mac winced looking back at the smear of blood on the Shelby's leather. He was going to find a hell of a detailer.

Fred's office was boarded up and already covered with graffiti making it look like no one had been here in years. Mac went to the trunk and pulled out Jack's crowbar. Mac cried out as he pulled the boards off the front door. He leaned against the door jam a long minute holding his side then pushed him forward. The office was dark. Mac slid his hand along the wall until he felt a switch. He blinked as soft lamps dotted around the waiting room. Mac gagged and covered his mouth.

"Jack, no," Mac whispered running through the office hoping not to find his friend. He followed the flowery smell of death to the women's room. Mac's face scrunched up in disgust. Janet lay sprawled on the floor half her head missing from a bullet wound. Mac left the room and closed his eyes. Another innocent person died, caught in the crossfire. Mac pushed down his bile and clicked on all the lights in the office. Everything was the same as the last time he'd been here except all the electronic equipment like computers and TV were gone. Mac noticed the circular shelves lined with manila folders. He flipped through them; there were none marked with his name, Jack's, or Murdoc's. Mac frowned. As many names as the assassin have had, Mac doubted anyone alive knows what his original name had been.

Fred's office offered no clues. It was the same. Mac paused as he left it, down the hall was a bathroom, beside that was another door. This one was padlocked. Mac smiled and picked the lock. Mac wrinkled his nose at the chemical smell. He clicked on the light, and his eyes opened wide. Strips of 8mm film hung like garlands across the ceiling. He stepped in taking in the bottles of developing fluids. Mac froze, and he smiled despite the situation. An archaic multilevel editor sat on the edge of the desk. He ran his hand along it. It was in fantastic condition.

Used back with the first colorized films, artists would paint backgrounds directly on silver nitrous plates which they photographed in layers. Editors would add layers of picture and effects into the movie which then film them all together onto 35mm film. From these original prints, all the copies were made and sent out to wished Bozer was here; he would love to see a working piece of film history like this. Mac's smile turned down as he thought of his best friend. Where was Bozer? Was he ok? Mac forced down the helpless anger and guilt. Why was this here? He sincerely doubted Fred was a closet film buff. Mac turned on the editor. As it whirred into life, Mac pulled some edited clips out of a garbage can beside the table. He held them up to the light and squinted. His breath caught. No, it couldn't be.

Mac slid the film into the clips and looked through the viewer. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He saw a picture of himself head leaning to the side blood spurted from his severed neck. Mac swallowed. It wasn't the creepy factor that bothered him; he knew what someone like Murdoc would do with this to Jack. Looking at all of the clips, he guessed the story. Supposedly someone had some facial surgery to look like Mac then took his place. Jack wouldn't believe that, would he? Mac leaned back and wiped his face. Knowing the kind of chemicals Sarana had access to, Jack would be susceptible to suggestion. Mac brushed at the tears that fell. If Jack thought Mac was dead...Mac's heart clutched in pain for his friend. Mac began to shake with a rage he didn't know was possible to feel. He took a shaky breath and forced himself to focus.

The 'replacement' MacGyver was probably Murdoc in a mask. It had deliberately been filmed far enough away, so the details were blurred enough to make it passable. Mac began to pace. He froze his heart stuttering. He recognized the couch where his body had been sprawled, and there was only one way he could have played that part. Mac rubbed his throat absently. He remembered how hoarse he'd been when Jack had found him. Looking at the picture of him sprawled out dead. They had bent his neck that way; it was him on the couch. Mac swayed feeling lightheaded. This whole thing had been planned that far back? Why?

"Why does everybody want to fuck with me?" Mac roared grabbing the editing machine and throwing it across the window. He screamed and pounded both hands on the table then leaned on it breathing hard. His heart banged like a war drum. He stood up and pushed his sweaty hair out of the way. He pulled the editor's plug out of the wall before it set the spilled chemicals on fire. Mac staggered to the bathroom and ran some water into the sink. He leaned down and sucked hungrily until his stomach sloshed full. Mac ran water over his face. He leaned back and glanced at himself in the mirror. He paused then turned around smiling. On the wall behind him was a framed photograph of a horseshoe shaped island. Mac pulled it down with shaking hands.

The island had a sprawling castle on the top of tall cliffs. The front of the castle faced the inside of the horseshoe. The back barricade wall of the castle stood flush against cliffs that fell straight down to waves. There was no beach, but Mac could make out narrow paths that wound in and out of caves. The stone was black. Peering closer, Mac could see that literally thousands of black birds lined the walls of the castle and the bushes and trees that lead down to the beach on the other side of the island. Mac grinned remembering the clues Mac had left him. An island and a crow-the ornate lettering along the bottom of the frame filled in all he needed Rook Island.

Mac had no idea where it was, but the black stone probably meant an island made of lava. The castle looked to be authentically constructed in the 1300s but had some different styles added to each other. It suggested that the island was privately owned, but by the same family going back generations. The only way for crows-or more exactly rooks or ravens-to get there was by human transportation, especially with so many in such a small area. Without a natural predator they had bred out of control, and no one had kept the population under control, so either the owners had some weird raven fetish or didn't know anything about keeping an actual rookery. Mac frowned, turned and smashed the frame against the sink. Glass flew everywhere. Mac ignored it and carefully picked the photo out of the frame. Mac grinned. A folded piece of vellum stuck to the back of the picture. The writing was faded and appeared to be genuinely aged. Mac squinted at the faint lettering and raised his eyebrows. It was written by a Manchester Owens to his beloved Beatrice. Mac couldn't make out the entire letter, but it seemed to be a confession. Evidently, Owens had been a keeper in the Tower of London. He was bribed by someone in France to steal some of the Ravens kept of the tower of London because according to the legend, England would fall if they disappeared.

Mac had no idea of the date this was written, if it was real or if the guy was bat shit crazy, but he had found Fred's connection. She was a descendent of the rook thief and evidently obtained the island from him. But where...Mac's head snapped up as he heard a thud in the waiting room. Mac clicked off the bathroom light and silently crossed to the photo developing room. His heart seemed to crash loudly in the silence. The steps that came toward him were slow, methodical, and deliberate. Mac frowned at the sound of feet that were accustomed to hunting others-the Assassin, Rijad Dedic. Shit.

Mac backed into the room making as little noise as he could. He bent and plugged in the editor machine keeping his eyes turned from the light. He grabbed the closest bottle of chemicals he could find and scooted over to the table where he'd put down the crow bar.

"MacGyver, you make this too easy." Mac saw the barrel of a silenced gun creep around the corner. Mac grunted as he fell to all fours and scurried closer to the door. He opened the bottle and threw it as hard as he could at the electric machine. The glass covering the light shattered, the chemical landed on the hot bulb and soon sparked and flared into flame. Mac covered his mouth with the edge of his shirt and laid flat as he could in the darkest shadow he could find.

The room quickly filled with fire and black chemical smoke. Mac heard a long string of furious Bosnian then the scuffle of the man turning to run away coughing. Rage burned inside Mac hotter than the inferno blooming around him. He rose to his feet and attacked the assassin like a Jaguar. Dedic stumbled forward. He turned to raise his pistol up to fire. Mac jammed the sharp end of the crow bar into the man's forearm tearing it open to the bone. Rijad screamed. Mac grinned and swung down smashing the man in the middle of his face.

Mac howled and lost himself in the violence, pain, and rage. The man below him was broken. Mac raised the crow bar dripping blood for the final blow. Mac shook, his adrenaline was cold acid fueling his muscles. His lip pulled back. Mac stretched to bring the metal down. It stopped less than an inch from killing the man. Mac wanted to destroy the man for the pain he'd caused his best friend, his entire family, but Mac knew if he did he would never be able to look Jack in the eye again. Mac screamed in rage and slammed the crowbar against the wall leaving it sunk into the plaster.

Mac staggered to his feet, he bent down to grab Rijad's shirt and dragged him out of the office. Black spots danced in his vision and agony threatened to split him in two. Mac dropped Dedic by the outside door and staggered to the Shelby. Mac gagged as he ground the car into gear and revved the engine screeching into traffic. Mac took out the phone Murdoc had given him, wiped off his fingerprints and hit the emergency button through his shirt. He wound down the window and tossed the phone out the window.

Mac drifted into a fog and drove on automatic pilot. He blinked and rubbed his eyes forcing himself to stay conscious. Mac knew he needed a place to crash. He sighed and pulled up to a flea bag motel where he could pay cash, and no questions were asked. Mac drove around to the back. He'd requested a room out of natural view. Mac grabbed the essentials he would need, locked the car up and entered his new base of operations. He locked the door and pulled the chain. He had a vague image of gaudy orange and red swirls then he passed out on the bed.

When Mac woke up, he felt as if his eyes were gummed shut and his mouth lined with wet dog fur. He groaned and rolled over wincing at the pain that seemed to curl around him like a fiery snake. He sat up and held his side. Mac coughed and looked down. The dressing had leaked through, but the blood was a dried brownish color. He hoped that meant it'd stopped bleeding. Mac heaved himself to his feet and opened the curtains. He winced at the bright sun. Mac staggered out to the car grimacing at the thick heat that seemed to hang in the air. Mac was sweating by the time he grabbed his go bag and returned to his room.

He showered, shaved and brushed his teeth. Feeling at least 10% human, he changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Mac rubbed his face, paid the manager and returned his key. Mac wasn't hungry, but he knew if he didn't eat he wouldn't be able to help Jack. Mac buzzed through McD's and scarfed down a meal. He didn't taste it or even know what he'd ordered other than the giant sized black coffee. Stopped in traffic, Mac thought about his next step. He needed to learn more about Rook Island primarily where it was. Mac sawed through traffic until he pulled up to the nearest branch of the public library.

Figuring he'd start with the obvious he googled Rook Island. Soon he'd gone down a link tree and found a site that gave details Rook Island. The site was a conspiracy site asserting that the island was a government prison site holding aliens that it captured during the middle ages. Mac shook his head at what some people believed; then he thought about Corydon and his smile vanished. Maybe these theorists didn't think big enough. Mac studied the layout of the castle. He was surprised at the extensive dungeons. Most castles built as early as the Rook Castle had been started didn't have dungeons. Made primarily for protection, people who broke the rules were publically punished or outright killed. Only in later years when wars became bastions in nation state wars did the dungeons bloom, used mostly for torturing prisoners for information. Mac closed his eyes and took a steadying breath pushing images of what could be happening to his friends away.

Mac sat back and chewed his bottom lip. The main dungeons were little more than holes in the floor covered by grating. For additional torture, the cells typically filled with refuse from drains from the crap holes and kitchen. Mac wrinkled his nose imagining the half dead victims stewing in raw sewage; the prisoners probably not have wanted to live even the short time they survived. Mac's eyes widened as another thought occurred to him. He shifted the graphic to look at the land itself; it was pumice rich with pores made from gas bubbles in the lava spewed from a volcano under the ocean.

Every time the tide rose it soaked into these pores it collapsed some, and over time they became caves of varying sizes. Mac frowned. The dungeons had been made by digging into the pumice and lining it with stone. The ancient stones used in the bottom of the cells could be as worn as the rest of the castle. The broken stone meant that his friends could die the same way as the ages-old prisoners had. Mac put his face in his hands feeling his eyes dampen at the idea of Matty, Riley, Bozer and the others slowly drowning trapped in a fetid hold by a thick iron gate. Mac wanted to sob. He rubbed angrily at his eyes. Mac had to believe they were still alive and he would get them out-and Jack? He would do whatever it took to get his partner back safe and whole.

Mac began to type again looking for a boat to rent or buy. He needed one big enough to hold everyone, but able to get close enough so Mac could use a row boat or dinghy. He scribbled down the address of a used boat shop at the nearest pier and hurried to the Shelby. Mac puffed in frustration. LA traffic sucked. It was an hour before he pulled into a dirt parking lot. His boots thudded on the plank as he ran down the pier, he stopped at the weathered shop in time to see an over- tanned man with a flame of blond hair locking the door.

"Hey, wait!" Mac gasped holding his aching side. The man turned and gave Mac a plastic too-white smile.

"Sorry, dude, store's closed."

"No, you don't understand, I need…" Mac begged. The guy shrugged.

"Don't care, got a honey and waves to catch. Later dude." Mac felt his entire body shake as the man walked past him. Mac closed his eyes and forced his fists against his legs to prevent beating the man to death. Mac took several breaths and tears of frustration slipped from the corners of his eyes. He deliberately unclenched his fists and wiped at his tears trying to calm the tsunami of despair enough to allow him to think.

"You ok?" The voice was raspy and soft. Mac whirled to see a bent over portly old man squint at him. The man was scruffy, his dirty clothes worn through in several places. His face was a wild burr of gray and white spines; his eyes were bright sapphire gems sparkling out of curled in knobs of flesh. Mac swallowed and shook his head unable to speak. The man nodded at the office behind Mac. "Dooley's an asshole." Mac nodded running his hand through his hair. The man studied Mac and nodded as if coming to a decision.

"You still need a boat?" Mac's head snapped up, and he grinned.

"You got one?"

"Sorta." Mac blinked, sorta? How does one sorta have a boat? The man waved Mac ahead of him. They went down the long pier to the end then turned right onto another long pier. Mac froze his mouth hanging open not quite sure how to describe the thing in front of him. The only thing that came to mind was Noah's Ark. The man laughed.

"Yeah, I get that look a lot, I'm Sully c'mon aboard." Mac dumbly nodded and climbed the gangplank. The boat was as big as a Coast Guard cutter and made out of wood. It looked flat but had high side walls. In the middle was a house and not a little house.

"Wha...how?" Mac mumbled. There was no sail rigging or mast; he had no idea how the contraption worked. Sully chuckled and pulled up the gangplank behind him.

"My students built it." Mac blinked at him, the words not computing.

"Students?"  
"Once upon a time I was a professor at Yale. My five-year project was building this. It was meant to be a self-sustaining home that could stay on the ocean for months. For the most part, it is, except for the motor. We couldn't figure out how to make enough solar power to move this thing fast enough to make it feasible. Well, funding and interest ran out. I put up my house so we could finish it and...well now it is my house. C'mon in."

Mac's eyes gleamed as he started to take in the design of the ship. He began to ask questions. At first, Sully stared at him surprised, then he grinned, and they swapped ideas about construction and upgrades with enthusiasm. The inside was like a modest bungalow only made out of used tires, bottles and other recyclables. Mac sat at a table made from a converted refrigerator door.

"I think I'm in love." He murmured taking in the light fixtures which were hand hewn oil cans with cut outs in them. Sully nodded and gave him a strong cup of coffee.

"I like it. One of these days Stella will be finished, and I'll be able to show her to the world." Mac sipped the coffee his eyes widening. "Too strong?"

"No," Mac said taking another deep sip. Sully studied him and leaned forward on his elbows.

"You look like shit, why don't you tell me what's going on and we'll noodle it out?" Mac sighed and rubbed his face. He succinctly explained to Sully the deal. Mac left out the exact identity of Phoenix but not the danger they'd be following. Three cups of coffee later, he sank back exhausted and watched as Sully stared into his coffee rubbing his mouth. Mac felt his heart sink. Sully was going to back out.

"Ok, I think I got it. I got a friend who owns a boat repair and car shop. He knows every inch of the Pacific. We can go and get charts from him, then can be off at dawn." Mac opened his mouth to complain chafing at the delay. Sully gave him a steady gaze. Mac nodded. He pulled out the rest of his money. Sully went to push it away. "No, Mac, it's ok. The ideas you gave me are enough…"

"And how do you expect to use them without money?" Mac said with a smile. Sully shook his head. They finished their coffee and stood up. Mac paused something occurring to him.

"This friend of yours, does he do detailing?"

"Chowder? Hell, he does everything you wouldn't believe the hunks of shit he made into hot rods." Mac grinned.

"Good, I have a favor to ask him."

Jack blinked and frowned. He spit out sand and painfully sat up. He was on a sandy beach warm water was lapping against his legs which were half buried by the rising tide. Jack wiped sand off his scruffy face and blinked against the falling sun. He winced feeling his head. There was bruising, but nothing was broken. He staggered to his feet and reached to the small of his back. His Baretta was still in place. He sloshed to the higher portion of the beach. He sat on a boulder and rubbed his face wincing at bruising on his face.

What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered for sure was Iowa, then...fighting? Mac! Jack went to open his mouth to call for his partner when he remembered. Mac was dead, replaced by Hugh. Jack fell to his knees in the sand and wailed, screaming at the image of his best friend's slit throat, the ripping of his soul. _**You let me down! God, I am so tired of you! Do you have any idea how stupid you are? How many times have I had to save you? One job, you had one job, to keep me safe right?You failed. Why, Jack, why didn't you save me?  
**_

Jack curled over holding his gut as sobs wracked his body. He felt as if his intestines knotted around his heart which poured out, broken by a grenade exploding in his chest.

"Mac, no. Mac…" He had failed his best friend…"No, I'm sorry, bud, I'm so sorry…" Jack repeated it over and over rocking trying to give him comfort he knew he would never get, didn't deserve. He screamed again and again until his voice was as empty as he felt. Jack felt the rising tide lapping at his knees. He plopped to the sand, his back against the warm stone. The foam started to run up his legs. He watched the higher waves chase each other hungrily, coming for him. _**Why, Jack, why didn't you save me?**_ Jack's shoulders slumped. The water was cool with a strong riptide. Sand oozed up his pant legs scratching his skin. Jack could taste salty surf splash against his mouth and face. He closed his eyes content to sit there and let the sea take him. He leaned his head back, his falling tears mixing with the ocean.

Hugh. Jack's head snapped up; he felt a fist hit him in the gut. That was his mistake. He'd thought he'd killed the traitor, but he had survived, had taken over Mac. Jack's teeth gritted together, and he pushed himself to his feet. He fought the drag of the tide and the weight of his wet clothes. He would let the sea have him; he had nothing left to live for except revenge. The idea of that...murderer walking around in Mac's face sickened him, fueled the rage. He would finish him this time; he would break every bone in his god damned body then break them again and again until there was nothing left of the bastard. Jack climbed the black not noticing the cuts on his hands. He soon reached a narrow path winding up the island. Over the loud roar of the sea, he heard a chorus of deep croaking. He blinked at rows of Ravens watching him from branches of hundreds of weather worn twisted trees. Jack smiled grimly, a murderer's murder of ravens. With his black shirt, pants and frozen heart he belonged with them, hunting carrion.


	6. Chapter 6

*****Alrighty everybody, if you feel like I do the last couple chapters were blistering (why I had to write shorter fic with them), but now we're getting to the point. FYI Amazon video has pre-paid season 2 passes available now! (in the US anyway)-Can't wait! Squeee. Uh-hum, back to work…***  
**

Chowder studied MacGyver from across the room. Chowder was a lanky man that looked like wood burnt to muscle. His black eyes and hair gave a hint of his background, a combination of Mexican, Native American and Norwegian. Chowder set the M-16 he'd just cleaned and reassembled beside the three others he'd already finished. He stood up and stretched glancing at the water clock that poured itself out along the far wall. He frowned and walked to the kitchen where the blond kid was leaning over a pile of cheap cell phones he'd bought. Chowder had seen the packages Mac had lugged in from the back of Shelby's car; he knew why the kid needed the phones. Chowder shuddered.

"Do you want a beer?" Mac looked up and blinked. After a second, he shook his head then bent back over his work. Chowder pulled out a beer sidestepping something the kid had already made that looked like a kid's pool toy crossed with a back pack.

Chowder shook his head and walked out on deck. Sully was leaning over a stack of charts making marks and lines on them. The roar of the three ridiculously huge engines was almost deafening. Chowder listened to them and smiled. He and Sully had designed the engines but couldn't figure out a way to run them wide open without overheating. Mac had listened, poked around the engines almost taking them apart in seconds, then smiled. Mac made a few adjustments gave the older men a shopping list than like a mad scientist put together some oil that looked too thin but worked perfectly. Mac started to explain how he'd lowered the friction coefficient by canceling out the viscosity of something or other. Sully understood what the kid was saying. Chowder left them to it and scoped out the Shelby. The beautiful car had been well loved and carefully maintained, until recently. Chowder thought about the kid. He'd seen the blood on the leather; he saw how Mac held his side and moved stiffly. He'd noticed Mac's pallor and exhaustion. The kid looked like a feather could kick his ass in a stiff breeze, but Chowder knew Mac had the strength he'd seen in only a few others.

Chowder sat across from Sully and sipped his beer leaning his head back. They had left at pre-dawn and had been traveling at a good clip the entire day. The sky was fading to a pale peach. Chowder sniffed in the engine smell of diesel mixed with the tang of whatever chemical his partners had thrown in with it. The ocean was choppy, but Chowder had lived on or around the ocean his entire life. If he wasn't near the sea, he couldn't sleep. Chowder took another sleep. At least peacefully, he silently amended. He studied the grizzled face of his only friend. Sully and he had met on a battle field that had no official name. They had bumped into each other off and on over the years in the bloodiest of circumstances and had the scars to prove it. Sully wore him under his beard and in his leg. To look at him no one would guess he'd had half his face and the bottom third of his leg blown off; as for Chowder, his scars were inside his head and his soul. Chowder took a deep drink. Both men would have died a hundred times over if they hadn't been friends, brothers. Now years past their prime, they had relaxed into an easy friendship without the need for words.

Chowder watched as the sun slowly sunk towards its western home.

"Did you see what he's making in there?" Chowder asked.

"Of course." Sully glanced up amusement in his blue eyes. "You know better than to ask me that." Chowder smiled and tilted his beer at Sully. Sully sat back and sipped from his bottle. "What's wrong?" Chowder sighed his gaze far away.

"What do you think he's going to do with them?"

"I believe he is going to blow the fuck out of somebody. Does that bother you? It never used to." Chowder laughed and fished a well-worn pipe out of his pocket. He packed it and lit it, puffing it to life. The sweet tobacco smell hung in the air around them.

"No, I'm ok." Sully sighed and nodded leaning forward on his elbows.

"I know, I see it too." Sully absently rubbed his reconstructed jaw.

"Demons. That kid has a lot of demons." Chowder said blowing out smoke and leaning back to watch it mingle with the gentle breeze.

"Reminds me of someone else I know," Sully said around his beer. Neither man laughed.

"That's what worries me."

"He'll get us killed?" Chowder laughed.  
"Us? Hell no, our due date was passed centuries ago! No, I'm worried for him. He's too tight, too controlled." Sully nodded and sipped his beer.

"I know. I never had half of what that kid had inside of him when I was his age. His brain…" Sully shook his head. Chowder laughed.

"At his age, all you had in you was the need to chase and screw women." Sully laughed.

"I'd be angry if it weren't true." They watched the horizon a long time.

"He should be at prom or a frat party." Sully's voice hitched with his regrets. "Not…"

"Not like us?"

"Yeah." Sully leaned back wiping his mouth. "We were twice his age before we had scars like the ones this kid has."

"Believe me, I know. I wish we could fix everything, pat Angus on the head and send his baby ass back home too, but something is driving this kid, burning inside him and if it doesn't get out...well those bombs aren't going to be the only things going off." Sully stood up and hissed leaning against the table waiting for his circulation to return to his legs.

"I know one thing," Sully said. Chowder looked up. "I am jealous of that kid's mind, but I am more jealous of his body." Chowder laughed.

"Don't envy the young, their path is long."

"Where the hell did you read that?"

"A wise chief of my tribe has said so."

"Bullshit! You grew up in Oakland."

"Fine, you got me. It was on the menu at Lu-Shei's." Both men laughed, a polite cough behind them drew their attention. Mac stood watching them not wanting to interrupt them. Sully went over to the kid's side and put an arm on the kid's shoulders. Both older men did not miss the flash of pain or frozen stiffness that vanished in a second.

"Come over here, Angus." Chowder said. Mac rolled his eyes and offered a sly smile. He'd given up correcting the man knowing Chowder did it to annoy him. Mac's eyes fell to the wooden deck, and his jaw clenched. It was a very Jack kind of thing to do. He felt Sully gently squeeze his shoulder but was relieved when neither man gave any sign they'd noticed the naked pain on his face. Mac sat in the third chair facing aft. He turned the charts and studied the ones that showed the geological survey of the island. Chowder could only find a few maps that showed Rook Island and only two of them were used for navigation.

Mac leaned over and picked up Sully's pencil. Sully returned and handed Mac a bottle of beer. Mac nodded at him and took a long pull. His blue eyes fixed on his companions. Chowder puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. He may look like a teen or college kid, but those eyes were older than the moon they resembled. He leaned in and listened to the oddly deep voice that left no doubt who was in charge of this mission. Chowder smiled as Mac drew circles around the island and lined out his plan. Chowder glanced at Sully seeing the same smile on his old friend's face. Neither doubted it was going to be as dangerous of a mission as they'd ever been in and that was just the way they liked it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mac paused to catch his breath. He leaned over holding his hand over his side. The last cave had narrowed, and Mac had reopened his wound as he wormed his way deeper into it. He glanced at his watch. He had twenty minutes to…

Mac cried out as a body slammed into him and threw him down on the sharp black rocks. Luckily his jacket and the harness he wore cushioned his fall. His head slammed right then left, hard punches blurring his vision and opening his lip and nose. Mac braced his foot against a rock, arched his back and bucked to the side. His attacker rolled off gracefully coming to his boots. Mac staggered to his feet with dread, knowing who he faced. Mac held out his hands as if he were trying to calm a pissed off tiger which he was.

"Jack...look I know you feel confused…" Jack smiled grimly. Mac felt his heart sink at the coldness in his friend's eyes.

"I'm not confused, Hugh." Mac's eyes widened. That's who Jack thinks he is? Shit. "Or should I say MacGyver?" Mac stepped back trying to hide his surprise. The cruel sneer Jack used to say his name was a machete twisting in his gut. Jack smiled not missing the reaction. "Nothing to say, MacGyver?" Mac swallowed unable to speak. Jack slowly walked around Mac his eyes picking Mac apart with analytical strategy. Mac cleared his throat. He knew Jack was waiting, studying-making the kill last longer.

"Jack, it's me, Mac."

"Traitor, you killed them all!" Mac blinked. Them all? Mac felt like there was no air. Were Bozer, Riley, Matty and the others dead?

"Jack, look they messed with your head, drugged you. I'm not dead they faked it."

"I saw the films; they can't be faked." Mac mentally groaned. He knew it would be impossible to explain how the films were made enough for the older man to believe it, not that he would have time.

"Look, you've been with me through everything, man" Mac couldn't stop tears from running down his cheeks, "You held me together when...when I was...Jack, listen, it's really me. Let me help you!"

"Traitor, this time I'm going to make sure you stay dead, MacGyver," Mac grunted, turned and ran.

 **Rook Island, Now**

Mac slid to his knees shaking his head to keep the blackness at bay. Jack kicked him. Mac slumped to the floor. Jack grabbed him and hauled him upright again. Mac held the sharp piece of pumice in his hand then sighed and let it go. There was no way he could use it on Jack. His body relaxed as Jack pulled back his fist for the killing blow.

"Jack, _please!"_ Mac mumbled softly never taking his eyes away from those of his partner. " _Please…_ " Mac took in an unsteady breath then turned away and closed his eyes. "It's ok, Jack. I forgive you." Mac wasn't sure if he said it out loud or not. Everything went gray. Mac blinked up surprised to find himself sprawled on his back on the floor of the cave. Jack knelt beside him staring at him wide-eyed and panicked. Mac could see Jack's body shook and tears ran freely down the older man's scruffy face. Mac moved to sit up, Jack scuttled back but kept staring at Mac. Mac slowed his movements and lifted both palms outwards.

"Hey, big guy, you with me?" Mac asked slowly. Jack looked away and covered his head heaving with sobs. Mac felt his tears fall and sat up reaching out. Jack darted back further. "Jack, please. It's really me. I came for you, and for the others." Jack slowly looked at him wanting to believe it, but confused. Mac took a deep breath. "Look after we get out of this mess we can watch your entire Bruce Willis movie collection even that stupid one about the assassin at the golf club…"

"You hate that movie," Jack whispered. Mac laughed.

"Yeah, I do...but I'll make the sacrifice, and we can get Bozer to make his stuffed French crust pizza, hell I'll even let you put your fish chum on it…" Mac's voice strangled off as Jack wrapped him into a suffocating hug. Mac ducked his head into Jack's shoulder not sure which one of them was crying harder or holding on tighter.

"Anchovies, they're anchovies," Jack said, his voice muffled by Mac's leather coat.

"Ok, big guy. Whatever you want." Mac answered. Mac and Jack both began to laugh. They separated wiping away snot and tears and laughed at each other.

"Look, you're making me a girl," Jack said sniffing.

"Nah, you're too ugly to be a girl," Mac said smiling. Jack turned away.

"Mac...I…" Mac could feel the layers of guilt pile up with each word. He crept to Jack's side and wrapped his arm around the older man's shoulders.

"Jack, I love you, and I am...so, so...so happy to have you back. We will hash all this out, and everything is going to be fine, I promise. But we're kinda on a ticking clock." Jack turned and looked at Mac puzzled. Mac's face turned to cold stone. "We're ending this here and now. I need your help." Jack grinned and held out a hand. Mac grabbed it and grinned back.

"Let's do this," Jack said. Mac nodded. Jack stood up and helped Mac stand up. Mac looked at his watch and frowned as he led the way out of the cave. He pulled a cell out of his pocket and pressed a button, putting it on speaker. Chowder answered.

"You find your friend, Angus." Mac rolled his eyes. Jack smiled. Whoever this guy was, he liked him already.

"Yep, everything in place."

"Yeah, are you sure…"

"Meet us at the portcullis in...ten."

"That's going to be a bit close,"

"Then why are you still talking to me." Chowder began to swear in three different languages. Mac smiled and clicked off the phone. Jack stared at him in wonder, still not quite sure it was really Mac. Mac grabbed his forearm.

"C'mon, Jack. I have a plan, trust me." Jack laughed, his doubt evaporating.

"Said no one ever." He muttered. Mac blinked, not quite sure what Jack meant and not really sure Jack knew what he meant either. Mac shrugged focusing on the next step of their plan. The hike to the top of the cliffs was steep, and both men were sweating and panting by the time they drew close to the large double towers. Jack eyed the bulwarks with wide-mouthed awe. He could see the dip where a moat would have been and short tunnel where archers had windows pointing out, above holes above the arch where boiling oil was thrown onto invaders. Jack jumped at the echoing bellow of disturbed crows. As his eyes got used to the dim light, he realized the shadows were alive with black feathered birds.

"No, that's not creepy at all," Jack muttered. Before Mac could reply, Chowder was at their side. Jack held his chest and sucked in air. He hadn't heard the man make a sound. Mac put a hand on Jack's shoulder and leaned forward concerned.

"You ok, big guy?" Jack managed a wan smile and nodded. "This is Chowder; he's a friend." Jack straightened and held out a hand. Chowder grinned and took it he gave Jack a battered but serviceable M-16.

"Know how to use this?" Jack grinned checking and prepping it in seconds.

"I'll manage." Chowder nodded.

"I like him, Angus." Mac rolled his eyes. Jack chuckled.

"So what's the plan, Angus." Mac huffed and shook his head. He peered intently into Jack's eyes. Jack fidgetted nervously.

"Jack, I need you and Chowder to go get Matty and the others."

"They aren't...they aren't dead?" Jack whispered. Mac smiled.

"No, and they need you guys to take them to the beach for evac." Jack nodded and turned to follow the older man. Jack stopped and turned back when he realized Mac wasn't behind him.

"Aren't you coming?"

"No." Mac looked up at the tower above them with a look on his face Jack couldn't read. He took a step toward Mac. Mac smiled at him.

"I'll meet you at the boat," Mac said turning to leave one hand pulling the harness on his shoulder higher up, the other hand bracing his side. Jack swallowed feeling his heart pounding in fear.

"I'm coming with you!" He said. Mac stopped and looked at him sadly.

"Chowder needs you to get the others out safe." Jack waited then dropped his eyes hearing the unspoken _I don't need you, I don't trust you._ Jack turned away only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He hesitantly looked up into bluer than blue eyes.

"Jack, I will meet you at the boat...everything will be ok, I promise." Jack opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Mac reached out and hugged his brother. "Make sure our family gets home, ok?" Mac murmured. Jack swallowed and nodded. Mac nodded at Chowder.

"Hey, what are you going to do?" Jack managed as Mac turned to walk away. Mac gave him that same odd look.

"I'm finishing this, here and now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Matty, do you...um...want to get on my shoulders or something?" Bozer offered. Matty shot him a look then softened it with a smile. The black water was up to her chest; everyone else's thighs.

"I would really, really appreciate that Bozer," Matty said. Bozer grinned and crouched. Matty climbed up and managed to sit piggy back.

"My wrinkles are wrinkling," Riley grumbled beside them.

"We have to get out of here soon," Matty said.

"Any ideas?" Bozer asked. They fell silent. No one had been able to think of anything in the past two weeks. Three times the water had seeped in, each time worse than the time before and taking longer to drain. The last one had left them just enough room to hold onto the iron gate above them and swim while being able to breathe easily. This one wasn't looking so promising.

"If Mac...or Jack…" Bozer's voice failed. Riley put a hand on his shoulder and swallowed.

"Look, they're still alive." Matty declared.

"How do you know?"

"Do you think Murdoc or that bitch wouldn't take the opportunity to crow about it?" Matty grinned at the others. Riley nodded.

"She's right. They're coming; we just have to hang on."

"Hey, you all ok over there?" Chelsea's southern twang bounced off the stone walls.

"Getting a little wet, nothing too serious," Matty called back. Bozer looked at Riley and rolled his eyes. Riley chuckled.

"Good, we were gonna rescue you but since you got everything under control, I guess you're gonna save us." Sally joked.

"If you got skin cream, I'll rescue you and make honest women of you both!" Landers, Jack's number two in TAC command called.

"You know we might have to have another HR seminar…" Matty was cut off by a circus of theatrical moans.

"So confident, so brave. I love it." Matty scowled up at the new voice. Sarana looked down at them through the grate.

"Why are you here? Can't you see me and my people are having fun?" Sarana laughed and knelt down to peer closer into the cage.

"Not for much longer I'm afraid. Some of the other cells have more water in them than your and I think it won't go down as fast tonight. Something...something global warming something, my love says."

"Love?" Riley snorted. "Murdoc is incapable of love." Sarana's dark eyes flashed with anger.

"I'm sure you're different though aren't you, Sarana? The only one who knows the real Murdoc? The one he would quit everything for?" Matty grinned and shook her head. She looked over at Riley. "How many times have we heard that?"

"Too many," Riley said thinking of her mother. She looked up at Sarana. "He'll kill you, in the end, you know that right?" Sarana studied Riley for a long minute noting with curiosity the earnestness in the young woman's face. Sarana shrugged and stood up.

"We shall see." She said over her shoulder as she walked out.

"Stupid bitch," Matty grumbled.

"They deserve each other...Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein they are." Bozer agreed.

"Let's hope it ends the same way," Riley said.

Sarana stormed out of the dungeon furious although she wasn't exactly sure why. She knew Murdoc would kill her if she didn't kill him first. That was the spice in their romance, how they fit together. Sarana knew the score; she licked her lips thinking of Murdoc, it was the cost of getting so near a dangerous predator. So why did their words bother her? Sarana gritted her teeth. She wished Oscar was around. Sarana sighed thinking about her big dumb brother. She'd killed him, of course. It was out of love. If she hadn't, he would have gone to jail and African prisons, well the holes the Phoenix staff were drowning in were comfortable by comparison. Sarana had found it interesting. Oscar had been her first true experimental use of Blue. He had jumped off a cliff three times, even pulling himself forward on broken legs to follow her commands. Unfortunately, his brain had exploded before she could adjust the formula. It had taken ten tries before she could control the effects, and it had worked flawlessly on MacGyver.

That was how she found Murdoc. Sarana cared for MacGyver only because he was such a resilient specimen; she didn't care about killing him as Murdoc did. No, Jack Dalton was the one Sarana wanted to see destroyed.

"Bitch." Sarana sighed and rolled her eyes. She turned.

"Think of the devil, and he sits on your shoulder." Jack stood staring

at her M-16 pointed at her head. She could see how pale he was, how badly the rifle shook.

" You don't look well, Jack. Reunion not happy?" Sarana laughed.

"MacGyver is fine," Jack said smiling. Sarana howled in fury.

"You can't kill anyone right, can you!" She raved. She didn't see the hard flatness in Jack's eye or the cold edge in his smile.

"It's something I gotta work on, thanks for your input," Jack muttered as he fired a controlled triple blast into the woman's head. His hands trembled, and he shook, fighting the wave of hatred.

"I think you got the hang of it now, bro. She's definitely dead as dog shit." Chowder said. Jack looked up at him blankly a long minute then slowly began to laugh. The two men ran toward the dungeons. Jack cried out falling to the stone; his left leg shot out from under him. He glanced up to see Fred firing from a balcony overhead.

"Fred?" Jack yelled surprised. Chowder grabbed him under the arms and dragged him behind a stone pillar. Chowder fired up to keep Fred back as Jack checked his leg. He frowned, a thick chunk of meat was gone, but it wasn't life threatening.

"So who's this now?" Chowder asked crouching and reloading as Fred banged away at the stone they hid behind.

"That's my therapist." Chowder's eyes widened.

"No shit?" Jack shook his head. Chowder laughed.

"You got a fucked up life, man." Jack chuckled and nodded.

"You have no idea."

"Ok, cover me, and I'll go get your people out. We'll come out behind her, ok?" Jack nodded. They looked at each other both counting to three. Jack slid out to the side of the pillar and fired up at Fred. Chowder spun around the other end of the post and dashed downstairs. He spun down two more flights that ended with an enormous open area with several caged openings built into the floor.

"Hello? I am looking for an ornery tiny fire cracker named Matty?" Chowder called.

"Jack Dalton, that…" Chowder grinned and followed the swearing to the cage that held Matty. He set aside the M-16 and pulled at the latch grunting at the weight of the iron gate. It crashed aside. Chowder reached down and pulled Matty out first. In seconds Bozer and Riley stood beside them dripping on the stone. Between them, everyone was free in five minutes. Suddenly there was a loud boom, and the entire castle shook.

"Crap, we gotta go folks." Chowder said leading the way up the stairs. He turned and looked up, but Fred wasn't there. Chowder's heart pounded when he realized he didn't hear the M-16 either.

Everything was going fuzzy. Jack flopped back trying to stay awake. He looked up to see Fred staring down at him sadly.

"Why?" Jack asked. Fred sighed.

"I really liked you, Jack, it isn't anything personal-money you know?" Jack heard the triple burst of Chowder's gun and felt warm blood spray him. He stared at blood dribbling down the woman's face.

"Now that's a cathartic moment," Jack whispered. There were two more explosions and parts of the castle began to crumble. A swirling maelstrom of feather and fury erupted as all of the Ravens took to the air. Jack coughed as dust and bird dung showered down around him.

"Gotcha, brother." Chowder said. Jack felt himself hauled to his feet and they were running. Jack closed his eyes feeling exhausted and not quite able to follow what was going on. Everything blacked out; then Jack was on creaking wood. He shook his head trying to sort out the chaos around him.

"Jack?" Riley asked kneeling beside him. Jack smiled at her and sat up taking her into his arms. A second later Jack was wrapped by Bozer's enthusiastic embrace. Matty stood over him a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Relax Jack; it's over." Jack frowned. There was a sad note in her voice he didn't like.

"Where's Mac?"

"Jack…"

"No, Matty!" Jack shoved everyone away from him and hauled himself up to the side of the boat. Everyone else on the ship was looking back at the island. Jack blinked. Two more explosions shook the water below them. Jack clung to the side of the boat. Ravens swirled like an angry cloud over the black island that was systematically smashed into powder. Jack's heart seized as he watched the outer wall of the castle crack like an egg. The towers crumbled as the cliffs the ancient ruin rested on broke beneath it.

"No." Jack breathed. He heard two more explosions and watched as stone and broken castle sloughed off chunk after chunk into turbulent waves. The boat they were on rose and fell knocking everyone down and splashed them with dirty salt water. Jack grimly pulled himself up. He was dimly aware of more explosions, sounding like distant firecrackers through the fuzziness in his head. The Island slumped then fell into the churning surf like a giant surrendering. Jack flopped back to the boat bottom and screamed inconsolably.

"MAC!"


	7. Chapter 7

Mac stood on the highest tower overlooking the entire island. Below him was a vast ocean panorama. Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The soft sighing and briny tang of the air seemed to cleanse him, remove toxins that had seeped into the marrow of his bones. He knew he'd only been partly right. Only part of this mess would end today, but it felt good to finally hit back and hit back hard. Mac lifted his phone. Still, a fleeting doubt trickled through his mind. Mac shook his head. He was done with doubts, done with pain, and done with being on the run. Mac hit dial then tossed the phone off the tower. Nothing could stop it now. Mac smiled at the first explosion. He could feel the vibration under his feet but knew the main effects would be felt lower at the base of the island itself. Mac felt unshackled for the first time in his life. He grinned as he saw the tiny dots of his friends running for the beach. Two more explosions banged in succession. Mac sighed satisfied. All exits from the castle slammed shut. The tower swayed under Mac's feet. Part of the island split off with an ear popping crack. Mac hitched up his harness. If all worked out well, he would keep his promise to Jack and be on the boat in the time it took to float down the high cliff. If it didn't? Mac would go to his stony wet grave knowing he was taking monsters with him. Mac didn't turn when he heard the scuff of a shoe on the stone behind him.

"I was wondering which one of you would be first," Mac said watching the dizzying tornado of frightened birds around them.

"Dear Angus, I must say you've outdone yourself this time." Mac turned and met Murdoc's gaze steady and unafraid. Murdoc frowned puzzled. He cocked his head and studied the younger man with a predator's smile. "Are you alright, dear boy? You don't look well." Mac laughed and crossed his arms.

"Actually, I'm great."

"How did your reunion with Dunderton go?" Mac grinned; Murdoc fidgetted discomforted.

"We're good. What're a few punches between friends?" The tower shook harder almost knocking them off their feet. Murdoc looked around them nervously as another chunk of the island fell. He looked at Mac who had a satisfaction on his face that made Murdoc very nervous.

"What are you up to, Angus? I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to come up here without a plan. How are you getting down?" Mac laughed and walked over to the ledge looking down.

"It is pretty far, I don't think down is the problem, do you?"

"Self-sacrifice? You forget I know you, Angus, I know you wouldn't give up so easily." Mac turned to face him. Murdoc stepped back at the icy fire in the blond's eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" Mac said it in a soft, almost gentle tone. Somehow, this made his words more chilling. Murdoc took an involuntary step back. Another explosion sent them both to their knees. Murdoc jumped to his feet and pulled his Browning. Mac sat up but remained relaxed.

"Get up! You're getting us out of here!" Murdoc sneered.

"Am I? How am I going to do that?" For the first time, Murdoc noticed the harness and pack on Mac's back. The man smiled like a shark

"Your parachute! Give it to me!" Mac stood up his face serious.

"It's not a parachute."

"Don't give me that! Hand it over, or I'll shoot you where you stand." Mac sighed and slowly took the pack off and held it out.

"Murdoc, I'm being honest here. You don't want to do this." Mudoc scoffed and slid into the harness. The tower began to tilt, the stone cracking. Mac pushed closer to the edge managing to catch himself on one of the crenulations.

"Goodbye, Angus. You were fun! We won't meet again." Murdoc said stepping on top of the tower wall. Mac looked at him sadness in his eyes.

"No we won't, goodbye Murdoc," Mudoc yelled in delight then jumped. Mac fought the drag of the tilting tower and leaned over to watch. Murdoc pulled the cord about twenty feet down and exploded. Mac was knocked back stunned. He shook his head. His heart pounded. He had just murdered someone. Mac felt chilled. Mac swallowed and forced himself to focus. If he didn't move, he'd be joining his enemy. Mac sat up and pulled out buckles tucked up under his coat. He shook out the canvas and hoped his calculations were right, otherwise this would be a rapid, final jump. Mac buckled straps to his legs and arms. He heard another explosion directly under him. The tower sliced sideways as it fell. Mac got a small running start and leaped into the air.

He held his arms and legs in together covering his face with his arms. Mac knifed through the storm of Ravens desperately looking for somewhere to land for shelter. Mac spit out feathers then spread his arms and legs out. It seemed like an eternity, but finally, the updraft caused by the sinking island puffed under the wings on both sides. Mac grinned as he jolted higher suddenly a flying squirrel. His stomach still churned with frenzied butterflies as they always did when he was high up or worse falling from a great height. Mac closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe.

He angled his body and glided around the island. Like an eagle on thermals, Mac tried to move in gentle waves to keep himself up as long as possible. He saw the speck of the _Stella Luna_ and aimed toward it. Mac chuckled. At that moment, Mac was the bat Sully adopted as the name for his floating monstrosity. Mac was still too high. His arms and legs shook with the effort of holding position while twisting his body for the right angle to circle the boat. Mac gritted his teeth and winced at the pain in his jaw. He had seen Jack knock people unconscious with one punch before but had never really appreciated how strong a punch that was. Mac shook his head forcing his sore side to twist.

He could see individual people on the boat now. A cacophony of shouts overcame the roar of the wind that whipped his ears; everyone turned to point up at him and yell encouragement. If he weren't so tired, Mac's heart would have swelled. He circled lower not sure if he could make another circle. He could see Jack below him staring up at him. Mac fought the urge to wave. Mac managed one more half circle. He was still 50 feet above the water; it would have to do. On his sweep closest to the boat, Mac folded into a ball and plummetted into the ocean.

Mac clenched his teeth the keep from losing his air as he hit, a cannonball against the castle wall. Mac moaned uncurling and closed his eyes relaxing his body. He could see a trail of blood following him. Mac felt the ocean grow dark and his heartbeat loud. His lungs threatened to explode, but he had nothing left. Everything was fading when he dimly felt a hand grab him by the back of his jacket and yank him toward the surface. Mac was out before they broke the rolling waves.

Chowder shook the water out of his face and shifted the unconscious man to a more manageable position. Mac's bangs hung over his face like a curtain. Chowder paused long enough to brush them aside and checked the kid's pulse. He let out a relieved breath as he found a strong regular one. Chowder grinned.

" _Eres loco, mi amigo."_ Chowder fought the undertow back to Stella dragging Mac behind him. By the time he was pulled up by the many hands aboard the boat, Chowder was puffing. He fell to the deck sucking in air. He nodded at the friendly pats on the back and thanks from Sully's guests. It was clear Mac was well loved by everyone in this group, this family. Chowder knew that any one of them would have dove after Mac, but Chowder who had spent most of his years living in or around the ocean had responded first and dove in like a porpoise after tuna.

"Good job, ol' son," Sully said handing Chowder a beer and blanket. Chowder looked up and grinned tapping his beer to his friend's as he dried off his hair.

"Maybe so, let's not do it again so soon?" Sully laughed.

"If you wouldn't smoke so much…"

"Oh, you're going to talk about my habits, tubby?" No one else heard them as they continued razzing each other. Everyone else was looking at the unconscious MacGyver sprawled on the deck, Doc Carl and Sally working on him.

"We need something to wrap him up in!" Doc Carl called as he and Sally wrestled off Mac's leather jacket. Mac shook as if he were going to rattle apart. Jack had whipped off his T-shirt and held it pressed hard against Mac's side which steadily oozed blood. Jack's eyes were red with crying, first in mourning, then in happiness, then despair, then joy, now with fear.

"Dude, you have got to stop doing this." Jack pleaded. His breath caught at the bruising on Mac's face that stood out dark against the pallor of the kid's skin. Jack turned away his body shaking almost as much as his partner's. Riley dropped beside him on one side, Bozer on the other. Both had piles of blankets in their hands. Jack helped cover Mac and jumped in surprise when he felt Riley wrap him in blankets. Jack looked at her his lip trembling. Riley smiled at him and gently wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you, old man." She whispered in his ear. Jack buried his head in her mop of hair and felt his chest spasm with a sob. She pulled back and wiped his bristly face with a gentle thumb. "It's going to be ok; we're going to make it all ok." Jack nodded unable to manage any words. Jack felt his shaking hands give out. Warm hands moved him aside and took his place. Bozer smiled at Jack.

"It's ok, Jack. We got him. Just relax you've been through hell and a half." Jack nodded and managed to crawl to Mac's side; he collapsed and reached out to grab Mac's hands. Mac's eyes slowly opened and he turned to look at Jack. Mac smiled and squeezed Jack's hand. Mac's eyes closed. Jack laid his head on the deck, breathing out relieved, everything floated away.

Mac jolted awake as the earth shook below him. He blinked then winced in pain. Mac was in a darkened small bedroom. Mac looked down and frowned. He was in sweats. His shirt was off his chest was wrapped snuggly by layers of clean bandages. Mac frowned and turned. On the other side of the bed, Jack was curled up in a ball shaking and mumbling caught in a nightmare.

"Jack, hey Jack." Mac shook his friend's arm. In hindsight, Mac realized that was a very ill planned gesture. Jack rolled over, yelping in fear and caught Mac across his sore head with a right cross. Mac fell back holding his head involuntary tears prickling his eyes.

"Dammit, Jack, you need to stop doing that!" Mac grumbled.

"Mac?" I hurt you again, oh God, Mac…" Jack began to wail. Mac sat up his pain forgotten. Jack tried to roll out of reach. Mac leaned forward grabbed his friend by the arms and forcefully pulled him over toward him.

"Jack, it's ok, easy you're ok…" Mac murmured pulling Jack's head onto his chest. Jack closed his eyes listening to Mac's steady heartbeat. Mac gently rubbed his partner's scalp while whispering soothing nonsense words. He felt Jack snug in close. Mac winced at the pull on his ribs, but ignored the pain. How many times had Jack done this exact thing for him? Mac felt his throat tighten and his tears threaten to fall. "We'll get through this, buddy. I promise." Mac said softly as his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Hours later Mac woke up again feeling someone staring at him. He blinked his eyes, yawned and rubbed his face. Riley sat on the bed where Jack had been. She looked down, and Mac could see she was crying. Alarm flared through Mac's aching body he pushed himself up avoiding the multitude of complaints from aching muscles and his aching side.

"Riley?" Riley sniffed and wiped at her face standing up.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just had to…" Riley trailed off.

"Riley, what's wrong?" Mac's heart tumbled. "Where's Jack?"

"Mac…" Riley began to cry harder. Mac crossed the bed and wrapped her in a hug.

"Riley, talk to me."

"Jack's gone." Mac blinked his body freezing for a long minute. No, it couldn't be.

"Gone?"

"Jack left, no one knows where he went. I don't think he's coming back." Mac leaned into Riley feeling familiar abandonment wash over him. Jack had left him. Mac closed his eyes and forced himself to tamp down the 12-year-old that again screamed in lonely pain. He took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, I'll bring him back, I promise," Mac said to Riley and himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**One Week Later**

Jack stared into the small fire and closed his eyes focusing on the sounds of the forest around him. _**God, I am so sick of you, do you know how stupid you really are?**_ Jack leaned forward and ran his fingers through his short grimy hair, but the voices wouldn't stop. He was aware that they probably weren't real, or at least the real Mac hadn't said them, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling they were true. Jack looked down at his hands which shook. They were dripping red blood. Jack blinked, and the blood was gone. It had been Mac's blood. Jack hadn't drawn it, but he might as well have. Jack remembered his fist smashing into Mac's face, his knee in Mac's gut... worse the hatred. Jack stood up and began to pace around his camp. He knew he was a coward for running away, and he hoped Mac understood why. It wasn't safe for Jack to be around Mac, not ever again.

Jack froze in mid-step, combat instincts taking over. The forest around him had gone too quiet. He heard crashing through the trees. He turned to face the threat racing toward him, reaching for his Baretta. He was too slow. He saw two streaks of movement then he was slammed to the ground. He held up his arms to ward off an attack...of dog kisses. Jack blinked up in surprise. Elmer grinned at him sitting on his chest his tail slapping the ground. Fidget paced around Jack's head darting in for commando swipes of his tongue, too excited to stay in one place. Jack grinned and petted both dogs with open affection, laughing and turning his head to keep dog tongue out of his mouth.

"I would have brought George too, but Katya thought that would be a bad idea." Jack froze at the voice; his heart thumped harder. He gently pushed the dogs away and looked up at Mac. Mac stood at the edge of the camp his body relaxed hands in the pockets of his leather jacket which had, even more, scuff and burn marks on it. Mac grinned at Jack.

"Hey," Jack said, his voice oddly tentative. Mac looked around the camp taking in the lean-to Jack had built. He stepped closer to the fire and crouched down.

"I love what you've done with the place," Mac said his mouth quirking at the corners in the familiar smile Jack had thought lost forever. Jack sat up and stared at the fire, not able to meet the younger man's eyes.

"You need to leave," Jack said. Mac studied him a long minute then sighed.

"I know why you're out here." Jack looked up into Mac's face. He didn't see any of the anger or blame he'd expected. Jack swallowed with difficulty standing and turning away hiding the tears that pricked at his eyes.

"Go away." He growled. Mac stood up. Jack heard his friend step toward him and darted back away from Mac.

"Jack, I need you," Mac said softly.

"I...I can't, go away." Real heat entered Jack's voice.

"Jack _."_ Jack looked up at the sky peaking through the trees and turned. It hurt to look into those eyes. Jack looked away. Mac stepped close; this time Jack didn't step away. "Jack, _please._ " Jack closed his eyes, but he couldn't shut out that voice. It was Mac laid bare before him; the Mac stripped of all his walls. Jack slowly met Mac's gaze and felt his tears fall at the naked pain in the blond's eyes. It was the Mac Jack would die or kill to protect, the Mac with the galaxy-big heart who got hurt so often, who was so strong and yet so vulnerable. Jack shook his head, realizing how abandoned the kid must feel.

"It's better if you leave," Jack said his voice soft and hoarse. Mac tried to reach out. Jack angrily batted his hand away. Mac sighed.

"Jack, you never attacked me." Jack turned his dark eyes flashing with anger.

"You still have a lot of bruises I gave you!"

"Don't you get it? You thought I was someone else, someone who had...killed me. I trust you completely." Jack flinched.

"Maybe you shouldn't."

"You're going to make me do this the hard way aren't you?" Mac said with a long breath out. Jack turned to face him confused. Mac slugged him across the face, hard. Jack staggered back surprised. He rubbed his jaw and looked up at Mac.

"What the…?" Mac didn't stop he stepped in and shoved Jack back.

"Well, come on! If you're such a bad ass show me what you got!"

"Mac, what are you doing?" Jack's voice cracked with pain. Was he wrong? Was this Hugh after all? Mac's eyes flashed with anger.

"Well, come on, attack me." Mac shoved Jack back another step. Jack pinwheeled his arms to keep from falling. The dogs were looking at them nervously barking. Jack stood up.

"Will you stop! I'm not going to attack you! I COULD NEVER HURT YOU!" Jack screamed. Mac stepped back and crossed his arms calmly looking at Jack with a raised eye brow. Jack glared at him and wiped at his split lip.

"What the hell was that about?" Mac looked up at the sky, shook his head and huffed. Jack froze, what he said sunk in. Mac smiled. "I could never hurt you," Jack said. He felt like a festering boil in his chest had been lanced. He smiled then began to cry. Mac wrapped him in a tight hug, holding him as Jack sobbed away the last few weeks of stress and pain.

"I never meant to leave you," Jack said around sniffs.

"You think I don't know that? Sometimes you really are dumb." Jack smiled. The words were the same, but the love in them was pure Mac. Jack pushed back and turned away wiping at his nose. "Here," Mac said. Jack turned to see Mac holding out a wad of folded tissue. Jack laughed taking them and blowing his nose, dabbing at his tears.

"Always prepared, huh?" Mac laughed and shrugged.

"I figured one of us would be crying our hearts out." Jack smiled.

"You're still calling me a girl."

"I told you, you're too ugly to be a girl." Mac punched Jack on the shoulder and just like that the world was right again. Jack grinned and sat beside Mac looking into the fire. The dogs circled them then laid beside them, their heads resting on the laps of the two men. Jack looked into the dark, wise eyes of Elmer as he stroked the dogs head. He glanced over at Fidget who had sprawled onto his back and grinned up as Mac scratched his belly.

"So do we get to keep them?" Jack asked realizing he sounded like a ten-year-old begging for a puppy. Mac turned to him with a raised eye brow and laughed.

"I talked to Stella, the farmer's wife. She said she'd be delighted if we provided a home for her babies. Her words, not mine." Jack leaned down and grabbed Elmer behind the ears leaning his face into the dogs face.

"Hear that boy; you're my baby now," Jack said in the baby tone used on children and animals. Mac laughed. Jack glared at him. "Oh, like you don't coochie-goo to your boy over there!"

"I never said I didn't; I just thought you really are a girl." Jack leaned over and shoved Mac to his elbow. Both of them laughed at each other feeling light and free.

"You know I don't say I love you, right. I don't go in for all that mushy stuff." Jack said a familiar sparkle in his eyes. Mac didn't look at him.

"I know you don't buddy; I know you don't."

 **Epilogue One**

Valencia Pharee-Grace glared at the phone. She didn't really want the call that was coming; she wanted it over. The phones chime still made her jump. She answered it before she got a word out the familiar voice was speaking.

"Did he do it?"

"We aren't sure. MacGyver blew up Rook Island and the assets never left. They are presumed dead."

"But we don't know if he directly killed anyone?" Valencia winced at the disappointment in the other's voice.

"He very nearly beat Stratson and Dedic to death with his own hands."

"But he didn't finish it. Very disappointing. What about Dalton?" Valencia smiled. At least this was good news.

"He left the Phoenix group. No one knows where he went and there's no way MacGyver will be able to track him down in the deep woods."

"Dalton won't initiate contact?"

"He is broken and afraid of hurting his precious MacGyver." The other man laughed a cold stone's rub.

"Excellent, Valencia, that almost is satisfactory." Valencia beamed.

"How are defenses? The Phoenix personnel will be coming." Valencia waved her hand before she realized her boss couldn't see it. Valencia smiled, actually happy for once he couldn't.

"They will have no weapons, and we have triple their number in security staff. Besides we have the new modifications."

"All of them?"

"Of course." The man laughed.

"It should be interesting to see MacGyver face the very defenses he designed."

"Especially when he doesn't know he made them." Valencia crowed.

"Don't get cocky. We have tested MacGyver repeatedly, and he has surprised us every time. He is magnificent." Valencia ground her teeth. It was something she'd heard all of her life. MacGyver was the gold standard all of Corydon tried to beat.

"We may have to eliminate him," Valencia said failing to hide the happiness in her voice. Her boss sighed.

"It may come to that. Prepare for all contingencies."  
"As always."

"Indeed." Valencia glared at the phone after the man hung up. She took a deep breath and primly stood up bouncing her hand along her hair to make sure every strand was in place. Her heels tapped as she left her office. Valencia smiled at the gold letters on the plaque at the door.

"So sorry, Mathilda," Valencia said closing the door behind her. Valencia sniffed as if she were breathing beautiful perfume as she walked to ops, her ops.

 **Epilogue Two**

Mac stood staring at the abandoned gas station. Jack watched him from the Shelby. The two dogs sat in the back seat snoring. Jack sighed his memories of that night drifting through his mind. The helicopter landing, Mac beaten and bloody collapsed at the bottom of the broken phone booth, drugged, amnesiac. So much has happened since then. Jack realized everything had started earlier than that, way back at the battle for the theater. Jack rubbed his face. He thought of the photos of Mac as a baby, of the sick stalker that had followed the kid his entire life. This had started years ago, perhaps before Mac was born. Jack wondered why then he realized they wouldn't know the answer to that question until they could understand what the 'this' was. Jack frowned as Mac shuffled back to the Shelby. His partner stared at his feet lost in his thoughts, judging from the expression on the kid's face, not happy thoughts.

Mac sighed as he slid in beside Jack and closed the door. He stared out the window at the empty country road in front of them.

"Well? Anything?" Jack prompted after the silence seemed to stretch on forever. Mac frowned.

"No. Go that way." Mac pointed to the left. Jack studied his partner's face. Mac wore an odd puzzled frown. Jack pulled out and drove along the twisting one lane road.

"Ok, why are we going this way?" Mac stared out at the woods on his side of the road.

"Slow down."

"Mac?"  
"Stop! Here, down here." Jack followed where Mac pointed. It took a minute, but then he saw it an overgrown dirt driveway that twisted off into the deep woods. If it hadn't been pointed out to him, Jack would have never seen it. Jack shot Mac a worried frown. The blonde's body was vibrating with tension. Jack turned onto the driveway, and the Shelby slowly bounced along its unkept path. Jack winced at every squeak and thump. Chowder had done right by them. The man had given him new struts, shocks and even replaced an axle. The car had gleamed like new, and the leather had looked better than new factory. The only payment Chowder had asked for was to take it out for a drive down the Pacific Highway. Jack had readily agreed and aged fifty years on the trip. The man was a worse driver than Riley! Chowder had babbled out stories of his and Sully's adventures over the years of their long friendship. Sully was going to use the money Mac had given him to make some additions to his house boat then they were going to sail off into the sunset together.

At the time Jack had been too messed up to appreciate it, but he really liked the two old men and hoped that one day they'd meet up again. Jack smiled. Hell, he hoped one day he and Mac could be them. Mac sucked in a breath. Jack glanced over at him. Mac stared off to the left. Jack's heart broke.

"That's it?" Mac only nodded. Jack pulled up to the house and winced. It was more broken down than he'd imagined from what had described from his nightmares. He could see how frightening it might be on a dark, foggy night, but now in the afternoon sun, the half fallen house looked...sad, like an abandoned monument to the past. Jack glanced over at the tension and increased respiration in his partner's body. The troubled past, Jack reminded himself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mac glanced at him, a hundred shades of pain, doubt and fear flashing across his face. Jack nodded and turned off the car. Even with the familiar background of birds and rustling trees, the house seemed silent as if it were a black hole sucking the life from around it. Once it had been a brown bungalow, Jack guessed, but now it looked like a moss covered ginger bread house some giant had smashed through the center. Mac stood frozen staring at it. He seemed like a child facing a monster. Jack's eyes narrowed. In a way, Mac was.

"Are you ok?" He asked softly. Jack's voice sounded like a gunshot to his ears. Mac flinched as if it was. He offered Jack a wan smile.

"Not remotely." He answered truthfully. Jack nodded and put a hand on Mac's shoulder. Mac shook more than the leaves high above.

"Did you see the house number?" Mac asked his voice taut. Jack squinted and gritted his teeth.

"13." He huffed. Mac nodded and strode toward the house stiff-backed and determined. Jack followed him his hand automatically on the Baretta at the small of his back. The front screen door's frame was intact, the screens go. There was no door behind it only a sloping pile of rotting splinters. Jack coughed at the thick air. Mold, dust, cobwebs, and guano covered everything. Jack blinked at the full ray of sunlight that seeped in from the broken roof. Birds scattered from their nests in the ceiling as the two men approached the hole on the floor. Mac froze and stared down at the hole. Jack could feel tension radiate in waves from him, but his face was unreadable. Jack peered down and felt like he was going to puke.

Under a pile of broken boards now rotting and crawling with vermin was a child-sized rusted metal chair. The metal hinges of manacles built into the seat were easily recognizable.

"Mac?" Jack whispered reaching out to comfort his friend. Mac stepped away dodging the touch. Jack frowned. He knew Mac didn't want comforting right now, even though he needed it. Jack was going to try again when he noticed Mac studying the ceiling with puzzlement. "What do you see, bro?" Mac glanced at him and pointed at the roof. Jack didn't see anything unusual but looked anyway. It was the easiest way to get Mac to share his thoughts.

"See that singe mark?" Jack made a noise as if he did. "That's a prima cord detonation." Jack's eyes widened.

"Someone blew into this place?" Mac looked at him, his mouth in a straight line.

"No, someone blew their way out through the floor, then through the ceiling." Jack blinked, could Mac have done that as a three-year-old? Jack smiled to himself. He could picture that. Mac crossed deeper into the house. Jack followed him; his heart froze at the sight of the moldy couch. He closed his eyes the image of Mac laying sprawled with his throat slit hovering in his mind.

"Jack?" Mac called from another room. Jack took a shaky breath reminding himself it was fake. He followed Mac's voice. He crossed down a long hallway to the chamber at the end. Jack skirted around weak spots on the floor and closed his eyes sucking in fear as a rat the size of a small dog scurried across the hall in front of him. The rooms Jack passed were in better shape than the rest of the house. Two were bedrooms with beds still made, although the middles had been dug out for some animal's nest. Jack shuddered. He walked past a bathroom and closet. Jack frowned. Everything was still in place, rotten and decayed but still in place. Whoever lived here had left in a hurry.

Mac stood in the middle of a nursery his back to the door. He held something in his hands, and Jack could see his body shaking. Jack took in the crib. It had a mobile with stuffed planets and stars hanging in formation. Those matched the brightly colored stars peeling from the wall.

"Mac?" Mac turned. His face was almost gray, his eyes saucers. Jack couldn't tell if it was fear, horror, or something else. Mac wordlessly held out the framed photo. Jack looked down his breath catching. It wasn't a photo. It was a birth certificate. Jack looked up helplessly as Mac pushed past him and ran from the room. Jack stared at the official document wondering what it all meant. Jack snapped the frame off and shook out the worn paper.

He shook his head at the address on the back. He looked around the nursery with new eyes. Jack pictured his friend as a baby living here cooing up at the mobile as his parents stared down at him with love. That was the picture Jack wanted for Mac, the chair with restraints in the cellar told a different story. Jack looked down at the birth certificate and closed his eyes wishing with all of his heart that the lettering would change, but it didn't. " _This is to certify that one Angus Henry MacGyver was born - at Olivet Medical Center, Sonrisa, Oregon"_ The date was smudged. Jack looked closer his stomach dropping, or it was left off on purpose. What the hell is going on here? He asked himself for the billionth time. Jack shook his head deciding he was really going to kick the crap out of somebody for this, but for right now he had a more important job to do. Jack carefully folded up the paper and slid it in his wallet. He gingerly made his way out to the Shelby to comfort his best friend.

 *****************TBC...just because I'm that mean. The final part of this storyline will be in a story cleverly titled "Corydon." It will be out after Ghost of a Chance. After that...onto something new, possibly starting Bits and Bobs for season 2, possibly something else. Excuse me while I pause for a very undignified squee: SEASON 2! Got it prepaid on Amazon already! YYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!-Thank you feel better now. As always thank you for reading/reviewing/favoriting/ following. You guys are the best! Peace.  
**


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